Keeper of Secrets
by Arcadya
Summary: Everyone has concluded that it is exceptionally hard to keep a secret from Jane. But how hard is it really? One of the team knows. The arrival of a new face draws out this well-kept secret.
1. Lonely Secrets

_Hi all,_

_I'm just trying these characters on for size (so please excuse any anti-characterizations that may appear. Obviously I will be trying to create credible characters). This fic shouldn't be too long, at least I'm hoping it isn't :) It will be a multi-chapter... more notes at the end._

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**Lonely Secrets

Patrick Jane wandered down the CBI halls, joyfully awaiting the start of another day with his team, well Lisbon's team. But still, he claimed it for his own. And perhaps, he wasn't 'joyfully' awaiting the day, but there was semblance of happiness involved. There always was whenever he was surrounding by these people, these friends; the people who had someone filled a tiny part of the hole that his wife and daughter had left. Teresa Lisbon, Kimball Cho, Grace Van Pelt and Wayne Rigsby.

He heard the faint ping of the elevator, and took a peripheral note of the heavy, yet purposeful steps that followed. He turned slightly, to watch the figure approach Minelli's office. African-American, handsome by anyone's standards and definitely worked for national security. Possibly FBI, more likely CIA or NSA, maybe even homeland security. At the very least, the man carried a gun, which was much more than Jane did.

He set aside this nugget of information and proceeded to his couch. His lovely, friendly, lonely, little couch. Oh dear friend, he thought, did you miss me over the weekend? The team had been away for a case, and they had only returned on Sunday…so he had spent that one night at his house, too tired to let the normal demons terrorize him. He had been pleasantly surprised when he had woken that morning without a hint of a nightmare, a dream that was in fact a memory.

Van Pelt, Rigsby and Cho were all stationed at their normal places, fiddling with coffee cups and paper clips, attempting to make their Monday morning seem normal. Jane relaxed into the couch, feeling the leather slip and shift to support his frame; he really did enjoy this couch.

Lisbon's door was closed. But she was obviously in; it wasn't in her to be late. It was a good fifteen minutes before anything even slightly interesting happened.

Lisbon's door opened, and the fearless leader herself stepped out to make some coffee.

"I'll have a tea, if you're making some beverages." Patrick said quickly, allowing his usual teasing lilt to filter into his voice.

Her back immediately tensed, he knew she'd been hoping that he would continue his ruse of being asleep. He usually did do that, but today had been uneventful so far and a little Lisbon-teasing was in order.

She swallowed a sigh. "Anyone else want anything?" She hadn't even turned around, and she didn't believe in being about to read human behavior herself. It was common knowledge to her that the team loved to watch their interactions. Jane smiled; she really was rather adept at reading people. She just needed to trust herself more, look for the more subjective and interpersonal signals that people threw off, instead of merely relying on the factual and spoken. She had great non-verbal understanding, even if she didn't know that's what it was.

Cho spoke up suddenly, "yes thanks."

Rigsby and Van Pelt soon followed; their choruses of 'yeses' joining the hiss of the machine.

Lisbon smiled at the coffee machine; she had been going to ask anyway. How did Jane always know these things?

After Lisbon had finished making the beverages and had handed them out, with the help of the ever-helpful Jane, the sound of shoes walking toward their office could be heard. Uh oh, she groaned inwardly, couldn't they even get a day's break before the next case landed in her lap? She usually needed at least a twenty-four hour period before she could get on the Jane-chasing/preventing exercise wheel.

Van Pelt looked up eagerly, Minelli and a devastatingly handsome man stopped at the threshold of their collective office. Van Pelt tried not to smile too excitedly. Whoever this man was, she definitely wanted to be working with him, hopefully he wasn't conceited or annoying or an ass. Anything else and she was pretty sure she'd be trying not to ogle him for however long this next assignment lasted for. At least, she hoped he was here to work jointly with them, and not here to commandeer Jane for some psychic experience.

Cho watched the man intently. He had serious training, his body practically screamed 'I can kill everyone within this room with a paper clip and a sugar sachet'.

Rigsby was slightly more interested in Van Pelt's reaction to the mysterious man that he was actually interested in the mysterious man. Only slightly mind you, but considering _how_ interested he was in the mysterious man's sudden appearance, that's saying quite a lot.

Lisbon hadn't reacted at all, and Jane knew exactly why. She was probably caught somewhere between rejoicing that there was a possibility that she might be Jane-free for the next couple of days and struggling with her possessive nature that someone might be taking _her_ Jane away for the next couple of days. He grinned to himself. He couldn't wait to start teasing her about this.

Minelli stepped into the room, "Listen up people, Agent Carter here is going to be working a very delicate case here in California and he's going to need the co-operation of the entire team."

"I really only need the co-operation of one of your agents." Agent Carter interrupted.

Jane smiled. He glanced at Lisbon, odd. She wasn't reacting the way he thought she would. Van Pelt, Rigsby and Cho were; they were stuck somewhere between pride that Minelli wasn't going to let Agent Carter take Jane away from them and indignation that the man might think he could boss Minelli around. Minelli was like an extension of Lisbon, their loyalty to her extended, by default, to him.

He puffed up a bit, stretching the button on his vest. Hmm, might need to lay off the cinnamon donuts for a while. He couldn't wait for this Agent Carter to request his assistance so he could rebuff him and make Minelli make Lisbon make him accept the agent's request. He had every intention of helping this agent out with what was clearly a disturbing and highly dangerous case (from what he could gather off the man's countenance and Minelli's stance) but dearly wanted Lisbon to fight him over it. He loved the little exasperated looks she got when she had to force him into things.

"I don't care if you only want one of them. They're a team, my _best_ team, and you'll take them all or you won't get any one of them." Minelli thundered. Jane was struck by the oddness of Minelli's statement. He was a bit too upset for this to merely be a request for the consultant. This case might actually be quite dangerous and Minelli was pushing for the inclusion of the whole team so that Jane would be safe. Huh, Jane realized, that actually didn't sound like Minelli at all. The only person on this team who could get Minelli this riled up was Lisbon. He'd noticed the man treated her as his protégée, Jane would even go so far as to say 'surrogate daughter'. That's when he realized Agent Carter wasn't here for him at all.

"All right Minelli, all right." Agent Carter said, moving toward Lisbon, hand outstretched. A tiny glint of gold reflected some of the fluorescent lights about the room, "Teresa, would you do me the great honor of marrying me…again?"

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_There you go._

_Ever since the season ended I've been really interested in the Lisbon/Jane relationship, not so much their 'shipping qualities - although they are really fun, but just the way they're two sides to the one coin._

_But also I've been really interested in Jane's 'psychicness', and the manifestations of that in their working life. Plus, I don't think that Jane knows everything about everyone, I think that he does have a gift for observation, but he does tend to look for the answers he wants...I thought it might be interesting if there were secrets from people's past that he hadn't picke dup on. Why would that be? and what would Jane do about it? Plus, Jisbon is always fun to explore, because I truly don't see the show being able to resolve anything until Jane gets his closure..._

_Eh, my opinions at the moment anyway!_

_Please let me know what you think..._

_Arc_**  
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	2. Secrets Alone

_Hello again,_

_Thank you everyone for your great reviews. They made me so happy!_

_This chapter is quite longer than the first one, so in accordance with that the next post **might** not be as quickly posted. Sorry, it all depends on how quickly 'the muse' decides to send it's sweet honeyed words into my ear.

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Secrets Alone

"_Teresa, would you do me the great honor of marrying me…again?"_

Lisbon sighed, jutting her hip out to the side. One of the most feminine movements Jane had seen her do in recent years, other than the common womanly ailment of moving hair out of her face.

"Yes." She replied, stunning him and the rest of the team half the death. The thing that actually probably killed him, and the team, was the next action. Agent Carter leaned forward and sealed the proposal with a quick kiss; his stupid, meaty hand cupping the back of Lisbon's head as he did so.

"But this time, we're definitely going to be having some marital problems."

"All the better." Agent Carter replied with a laugh. He swiveled his body so that they were both leaning against the coffee station. He was almost the perfect height for Lisbon, his arm rested fittingly across her shoulders. Jane's eyes narrowed at the complacency with which Lisbon allowed this strange man to touch her. She didn't really like anyone touching her. It had taken Jane two years just to get Lisbon used to fact that he liked to stand near her, shoulder to shoulder. Let alone actually physically touching her, and this pompous jackass was invading her personal space and touching her, and leaning on her and kissing her within, what? five seconds of meeting her?

Slow down, Patrick. He warned himself. Agent Carter had said again; which more than likely meant they had been married before. Wait a minute! He stopped himself again; surely he would have picked up on that tidbit of information off of Lisbon. That kind of reality would travel off her in waves. That would have been one of the first things he would have noticed about her. Perhaps this marriage thing was a ruse…he needed to stop thinking about this and start focusing on what the hell was currently happening to his nice little boxed in world. The CBI world he had created.

Van Pelt was nearly having a coronary. This was exactly the kind of news she expected Lisbon to have shared with her the immediate instance their work relationship had traversed into the friendship category. They weren't overt at the office about the fact that they hung out sometimes. Other than the occasional mention of some group activity they did together, she was quite sure the team realized she and Lisbon did yoga together, but she wasn't sure if they knew they did other things too. It was hard, with the cases they worked, to keep too many female friends. Knowing you might have to pick up a leave at any moment meant creating plans with girl friends could be a hassle and once you got to certain point in your friendship, friends were okay with the lifestyle ramifications that being a CBI agent had, but you first had to _get_ to that point in the friendship. Grace certainly hadn't really come across too many women like that. She had always wanted to be in the law enforcement business (if you could call it a business) but once she had left school and begun working she had come to find that she had really only made friends with people in the CBI. Any other outside womanly influence was hard to come by. That's why she was so shocked, she had thought her friendship with Lisbon had progressed to the stage that even little hints about this mega-important event in her past might have been dropped. I mean, she wasn't expecting Lisbon to just bare all or anything, it wasn't in her nature, but still a little, casual 'I used to be married to an man-god made out of perfectly sculpted chocolate' might have been nice!

Cho felt his jaw desire the need to drop, but he resisted. He certainly didn't want Lisbon to think he didn't believe she was capable of being married before, although…this man didn't come across as the type of man she dated. Lisbon needed a foil to her seriousness; this man 'Agent Carter' seemed intense like her, that couldn't have lead to a very interesting relationship. Both of them would have been so work-orientated that he doubted they'd ever had fun. Cho definitely thought Lisbon needed more entertainment and light-heartedness in her life. She had relaxed ten-fold since Jane had started working here; she even started being sarcastic more. But perhaps that was the point. He stopped dwelling on this new piece of information. He would have time later on in the evening when he was not being paid to work.

Rigsby stood waiting patiently. So what if Lisbon had been married before. It was allowed. If he found it strange she had never mentioned it he didn't dwell on it for too long, besides with Jane around why would you be offering up information like that? Especially since, Jane seemed to find so much pleasure in harassing her, it was only natural she would want to keep that kind of information well away from his greedy psychic fingers.

"So, darling wife, we're going to be having a late lunch at home. But first you need to change." He wasn't even looking at her as he said it, he was staring at Minelli.

"Change?' Lisbon whined.

Whined? The team, plus Minelli, collectively thought, eyebrows rising and thoughts getting caught in tangles of the brain like hairballs caught in tiny kitten's throats.

Lisbon did not whine. Ever. Not for any reason.

Carter grinned. "You my dear T. Cannot, under any circumstances enter our home, dressed like the poster girl for anti-femininity at your local office."

"I am not anti-femininity." She exclaimed, looking far more outraged than everyone thought she should, considering this was Lisbon talking.

"Not usually no." Carter replied, "I brought you a change of clothes." He lifted up a bag that everyone, including Jane, had not seen previously. Jane cursed his weakness of loving being the center of attention. This was exactly the kind of trap he previously had fallen into. Once his brain realized there was a possibility for him to become the man in the spotlight, especially given any encounter where Lisbon was nearby, his usual diligence in looking for clues to the human condition fell to the wayside.

"What is it?" She asked cautiously. There was the Lisbon he knew and loved…platonically.

Jane moved forward a step, trying to peer into the bag too.

"A little memento from marriage's past." Carter stepped away then, most likely getting out of striking range.

"It's been a long time Carter." Lisbon said, immediately sinking back into her professional mode.

"I know that T." Carter replied, equally serious, "but this is important, you know I wouldn't have pulled you in otherwise. And hey, I even went through direct channels too." He grinned slightly, tilting his head toward Minelli.

"You can say no Lisbon." Minelli added.

"He wouldn't have asked if there was another way." Lisbon replied, completely serious with her superior.

Minelli nodded, "before you head out 'home', brief the team."

Lisbon and Carter nodded.

"First things first. Change." Carter commanded. Van Pelt fully expected Lisbon to deny the request, simply because he had commanded, but she didn't. She looked ready to obey. The plastic shopping bag was in her hand and she was about to retreat into her office when she suddenly turned about.

"Did you bring my music? You know it makes the transition easier." Lisbon said.

Jane was confused, and that was something that didn't happen very often, but it was increasingly occurring around Teresa Lisbon. He wasn't quite sure if he liked it or not.

Transition, what exactly was this agent getting Lisbon into?

Carter simply replied, "It's all in the bag." She grinned at that, like they were sharing some intimate secret. Jane didn't like it, not one bit.

Lisbon didn't have secrets from him. Oh she had things she wanted to keep personal and private, things he had acknowledged in some part of his brain, but kept himself from thinking about too deeply, so that he, in effect, was respecting her privacy. It was like a switch in his brain, one that he had to consciously choose not to turn on. If Lisbon knew all the things he knew about her, the things she didn't want anyone to know… She wasn't ready for that kind of knowledge, that kind of intimacy with him. But she had surprised him, apparently there were entire sections of her life that she kept very well-hidden, so hidden in fact that Patrick Jane, Psychic Consultant for the California Bureau of Investigation, didn't even know about them. Hadn't even picked up a tiny, little inkling of; it made him very nervous. Who exactly was Teresa Lisbon?

A few silent tense moments passed. Lisbon was currently undressing and redressing in her office, the blinds closed and the door shut. Van Pelt and Rigsby were open in their blatant staring of Agent Carter. Cho was quite stealthy in his observations but still, kind of obvious to Jane. He realized though that Agent Carter wasn't aware of these developments. The man was too focused on Lisbon and her office. He idly wondered what kind of 'marriage' they must have had. When you got someone as wonderful as Teresa Lisbon to agree to marry you, you didn't just let her go at the drop of a hat.

Lisbon's door suddenly opened, only a quarter of the way though. She stood shielding herself behind the door.

"No way. You can't expect me to wear this." She sounded slightly tortured.

"T. This is modest compared to the last time." Agent Carter sounded amused. No, scratch that, he was amused.

"Carter!" She exclaimed, pulling out the name so it sounded eerily similar to how she addressed Jane. Jane's eyes narrowed. He had thought he was the only one capable of annoying her so, apparently he had been wrong. He didn't like it.

"Look. You said yourself…we're having marital problems. You need to relax." Agent Carter's face completely transformed as he grinned and teased Lisbon.

Van Pelt had to stifle an intake of air. He was gorgeous! She had known he was a handsome man, but geez… he rivaled Jane in sex appeal. The man oozed confidence and attractiveness. She'd make a fortune if she could bottle him up. Hmm, she idly wondered just what a concoction of Jane and this Agent Carter would be like…Eau de Jarter *insert french accent here*....brilliant.

Jane couldn't even find it in himself to be amused at Van Pelt's reaction, and consequently Rigsby's. Cho though was thoroughly amused. Van Pelt and Rigsby, Jane and Lisbon, when had the unit turned into Days of Our Lives in all of its soapie content?

"There's no way I'm EVER going to be relaxed enough to wear…that." She cried.

"Well good thing it's not you wearing it isn't it Lisbon." He said, quietly, dangerously. His emphasis of her last name making the room pause.

Her eyes fluttered closed. She swallowed and looked him directly in the eye. "Of course, Carter. I'll be ready soon." Her voice was tight and controlled; the ultimate Lisbon, devoid of humanity, femaleness, compassion.

She closed the door again, and a loud, pumping bass-lined song streamed out of her office. Lisbon never listened to music on duty. This must have been what she was mentioning before, about needing music.

Jane realized this must be some sort of undercover operation. Lisbon was switching mental gearings. She was preparing herself for a role. But she was taking this entirely too far in seriousness. Although perhaps she wasn't. For Agent Carter, unknown agency, to take the matter outside of his own people, and to enlist the aid of Lisbon – through Minelli, meant that this was a very serious, and a potentially extremely, very dangerous operation. If he had used Lisbon before for a similar – wait, possibly the same operation that would make sense. He _had_ to have Lisbon play the part, and perhaps she even needed to play the _same_ part. It was all starting to click into place for Jane. He needed to shuck off his emotions for this, whatever he was feeling toward Lisbon and Agent 'meaty, clutchy paws' Carter could be dealt with later. This was very delicate. Lisbon needed him to be on his 'A' game. She was obviously already feeling the pressure. She must know exactly what she was being asked to do, and soon the rest of the team would too, they just had to wait for her to finish getting dressed and they would be briefed on the situation.

Obviously even Minelli was worried about Lisbon going in alone, he'd made it a requirement of her co-operation that the entire team were to be involved not just Lisbon. What were they getting into this time?

Agent Carter picked up Lisbon's forgotten coffee and began sipping at the cooling beverage. Jane grimaced at the familiarity of the action…well, he inwardly grimaced, he really only let his true emotions show around Lisbon. She had somehow managed to weasel her way under his showmanship defenses. How had she done that? Again, he reminded himself, not the time to be pondering your relationship with Lisbon, or lack thereof.

Shut up! He scolded himself again.

Van Pelt, Cho and Rigsby had seated themselves on the desks. They probably felt that sitting down on the chairs was too relaxed, and standing would give off a too tense stance, by seating themselves on the desks, they were affecting a calm they didn't possess.

Jane knew this feeling intimately. It was why he trained himself to recline on the couch. He spent a lot of time affecting relaxation and calm. Traits he may not be feeling in the moment. It was definitely a large part of his on-screen persona. People wouldn't trust you if you didn't exude confidence and calm. They wouldn't open up to you and they certainly didn't feel the need to believe you, and that was key for his past business, even elements of his present business. It didn't matter so much now the team knew him rather well, so he didn't need to be on show, completely – all the time. But he did want to keep the traits well varnished; and what better way to do that than to display assurance and calmness when he felt none. It was one of his most used tricks at the institution, where he had spent a significant amount of time after his wife and daughter were murdered.

The music emanating from Lisbon's office abruptly stopped, a few seconds later her door opened, and the Lisbon that was no longer his Lisbon stepped out.

Agent Carter could almost hear their jaws drop.

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_I know, I know - it's an undercover operation! A teensy bit of a cliche, but I just could not let Lisbon have been actually married to someone AND Jane hadn't figured that tidbit out. That just felt wrong, I mean I know Jane is a Mentalist, and he's only human, but really, I don't think you could hide such a huge part of your psyche (as in being actually married before) from Jane._

_Also, Lisbon's the type of person to take marriage extremely seriously, I don't think she would find it a frivolous union. She'd be heartbroken if her 'marriage' (a real one, mind you) feel apart. You know 'cause of all the family issues she has._

_Anyway, I hope you are all still finding this very interesting._

_Arc, please review!  
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	3. A Secret Revealed

_So, I had so many requests for an explanation of the dress that I had to go and find a picture JUST so that I could be sure that I was describing it accurately. Now I didn't spend much time describing it, I did want to move on with the story quite quickly and get into the undercover portion of the story. But if you really want to see it the address is at the bottom of this page :)_

_On with the show *ahem* story.

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A Secret Revealed

The sound of collective jaws dropping reverberated throughout Agent James Carter's brain. Well, what he imagined jaws dropping to sound like anyway. Had they seriously _not_ realized what an attractive woman was hiding beneath Lisbon's work 'uniform'?

He was exceptionally glad he had picked this dress for her. It wasn't even rather revealing, not compared to the dresses 'Tina' had worn all those years ago. 'Tina' had been quite the party girl, an excellent foil to his weapons expert, hard as nails man. 'Tina' made 'Carter Jones' relax, and that was a highly necessary commodity for the mob. She had fit in extremely well with the other women of the mob too. They had loved her crazy nature, the way her husband's business never seemed to affect her life. They wanted that too. It was a sad fact that the women of the mob were tainted by the death and deceit rampant through their men's business. Everything bled into their lives; they had loved 'Tina' because she made them forget about their woes, while still being an amazing shoulder to cry on when everything got too much. She walked that thin line between fun and reliable. She wasn't too out there that they couldn't rely on her, but she was just fun enough that she could be relied upon to bring a smile to anyone's face, no matter the circumstances.

Teresa Lisbon reminded herself not to tug at the hem of her little black dress. She was mentally sending death glares at Carter. He knew her well enough to know she hated him right now. The dress was beautiful she conceded. It fit her perfectly too. The only problem was that she, as the confident, capable Agent Lisbon, never wore these kinds of clothes, not even off duty. She had an image to maintain these days. She wasn't just a young rookie, starting out and taking whatever assignments came her way, trying to learn the ropes and the methods with which law enforcement got its information. Back when she had been 'Tina Jones' (the first time), her clothing had been more outrageous, but as a younger woman, wanting to do practically anything (within reason) to get the job done, she hadn't thought twice about the revealing nature of the clothes. She wasn't in a position of authority within the agency then though, so it hadn't really seemed to matter. It did now though. Was she supposed to be glad Carter had the forethought to know 'Tina' would appreciate similar clothes to the last time? Lisbon was fighting off the urge to smack Carter in the stomach. But 'Tina' was older now, Lisbon thought, she'd still be the same person, essentially. Lisbon sighed inwardly. Now that she thought about it, it did make sense for her to wear these clothes. She just wished she didn't have to wear them in front of the team. The dress was rather wonderful.

Black, form-fitting – extremely form-fitting (even in her own head she was using code to describe what she was wearing).

If she wasn't wearing the dress she'd be practically naked. That's how _form-fitting_ the dress was. Not that that was a bad thing. Not at all; only, Jane, Cho and Rigsby were staring at her like she was naked. In a flattery way, she supposed. At least it wasn't a lusty-naked stare, it was more a 'wow Lisbon is actually a woman' stare. The part of her that was connected with the persona of Tina felt extremely flattered. It's nice to know men find you attractive, in an appropriate context.

The dress had a square neck, a _low_ square neck. It definitely emphasized her curves. Pondering, she realized, she actually quite liked the dress. It wasn't something she would have ever thought about wearing, but it was feminine, beautiful and made her feel sexy. She didn't get to wear clothing like that much. Maybe she should start wearing more explicitly feminine clothes outside of work, to allow that part of her psyche an outlet.

Had he even seen Lisbon in a dress before? Jane was racking his brain, trying to find an image that would equal the vision that had just passed through that office door. Any time he had tried to envisage Lisbon in a dress it was always a floaty, kind of conservative, summer dress. Never _this_.

She was wearing that coy smile she had sometimes, but it seemed to be a permanent fixture on her face. Her walk was different too, it wasn't that self-assured stride she usually had; it was sliding, catlike…sexy. That's what it was; he'd never seen her purposefully be … _that way_ before. He knew that his mouth was closed, he wasn't staring gap-jawed at her, but he definitely felt like he was. She knew him pretty well, maybe she could tell from the look on his face that he was in complete amazement. It was quite obvious from the way Van Pelt, Rigsby and Cho were gaping.

Agent Carter stood quickly, embracing her as she walked toward him. "Darling, you look wonderful."

Lisbon smiled contentedly, as if she was used to this man telling her these kinds of things on a daily basis. As if she expected everyone to always think that she looked wonderful. But Jane knew that wasn't exactly the case. Lisbon purposefully avoided too feminine clothing, so that people would respect her for the commanding agent she was, instead of seeing the woman hidden behind the uniform.

Carter lead her to one of the desks, "I suppose I should brief you now." He stated. Lisbon relaxed against him and the desk, but she seemed wholly uninterested in whatever he had to say.

Cho and Rigsby were still staring at Lisbon. Their faces seemed to be in a perpetual state of shock. Van Pelt seemed to have recovered, after all most women were open to seeing the potential in each other's faces and frames. Jane knew they got together on weekends, Grace had probably seen Lisbon out of 'uniform' before.

"About seven years ago, Agent Lisbon went undercover with me, as my wife, to help get me into the inner circle of the Sacramento section of the Columbian mob. We closed that case. It took a couple of months but we did it. I still kept in contact with one of the guys that went into prison. He never knew that I was a cop. I wasn't required to attend court when he was being indicted. He plead guilty and waived trial. The Judge made the direct sentence and the guy, Billy, went straight to jail."

"Billy." Lisbon sighed, as if remembering an old friend.

Carter smiled sideways at her.

Jane narrowed his eyes at Carter. Jane had cornered the market on sideways grinning; didn't everyone know that by now? Where did this guy get off having such an intimate relationship with Lisbon? He didn't like it, but he still needed to figure out what he was going to do about it. He tried to ignore the part of his brain that reveled in reminding him that it really wasn't his place to be bothered by the relationships Lisbon had or did not have with men.

"Everything was fine. All the mob we interacted with were in prison and the entire Californian operation folded. It was a huge blow to their operation."

"What's changed?" Cho asked.

"Billy got out of prison and immediately started in with another gang…or mob. It's unclear really. All I know is that it's bad." Carter replied.

"How bad?" Van Pelt inquired.

"I was acting as their weapons buyer. Well, their weapons go-to-man. They would tell me what they needed and I would get it for them. Starting out I wasn't _in_ the mob, I only knew Billy, and he only came to me when they needed merchandise."

Lisbon still looked like she wasn't paying attention. Jane understood she was testing out the character, this other persona.

"Lisbon helped me get closer to the inner circle, to actually know where and why the weapons were needed and I eventually started tracing the shipments. The police at the other ends would pick them up. Since I was supplying them with the weapons, they trusted that it wasn't me giving the information away, especially not with how close my Tina was getting with Carl's wife."

"Petra!" Lisbon exclaimed.

"Let's go back to you being slightly more intelligent." Carter said, focusing his comments at Lisbon.

She grimaced and whacked him in the stomach. Carter smiled brilliantly. Van Pelt felt the urge to look away again.

"Billy contacted me through an old email system a couple of weeks ago. He's found a new buyer, wanted me to start supplying again."

"Who's he involved with this time?" Jane asked.

"We're not sure. It's not ethnic. It seems to be a big mish-mash of displaced people. It's rather strange, but we need to get in on the ground level. If Lisbon here wasn't going to help out, I was going to try and run the story that she left me, but it's much easier to get closer to the inner circle when you have a woman to befriend their women." Carter rubbed a hand down Lisbon's back.

Rigsby had never seen Lisbon allow so much physical contact. She pretty much only let Jane take those liberties and even then it was a forced sort of suffering. Who was this man to her that she allowed him to make contact like that? He snuck a glance over at Jane. Yep, definitely not happy with this development, Wayne Rigsby smirked. Who knew Jane had a bone of jealousy hiding beneath that unaffected façade.

Lisbon started swaying. She looked like a teenager getting antsy about being required to hang out with adults while they discussed something incredibly boring.

"Can Grace come visit me this evening?" She asked suddenly, surprising the room.

"Grace?" Carter asked.

"Grace." Lisbon replied, pointing at Van Pelt. Who looked shocked in her own right that Lisbon would refer to her by her first name rather than the usual 'Van Pelt'.

"Oh, of course. Why don't you all come over tonight? We'd have friends here right? Actually … probably best to leave one or two of you behind for surveillance purposes."

"I'll stay behind." Cho volunteered. For split second he thought he saw the old Lisbon look at him gratefully, but it happened so quickly he couldn't be sure.

"Rigsby you should stay back too." Jane said.

Carter sent a strange, inquiring look at him. There was no way he was going to let Lisbon and this guy be alone for long and uninterrupted periods of time. Besides, if they sent in Grace and Wayne in an undercover sort of operation, Rigsby would be too distracted to perform properly. Okay, so maybe he was exaggerating a little, but Jane wanted to be the one going to Lisbon's 'house' and watching this new side of her.

"Yeah, I'd feel much more comfortable knowing you had our backs, than Jane." Van Pelt added; sending a sweet look to Rigsby and a knowing one to Jane.

Lisbon smirked openly.

"Come on then, time to go to lunch." Carter exclaimed. He tossed a wad of papers and files at Cho's desk, "this is some of the information we've recovered about the members of this gang/team/whatever. We haven't figured out what to call them exactly, and it gets tiring calling them 'the operation'." With that Lisbon stood up, Carter swung an arm around her back and led her out of the building.

"That was…" Cho started.

"Odd." Van Pelt finished.

"Entirely." Jane added.

"Lisbon was…she was…" Rigsby tried to explain what he was feeling and failed.

"I feel you buddy, I feel you." Said the printer technician; causing Van Pelt and Rigsby to laugh. He had been in the office all morning trying to fix one of the printers they used regularly. He'd had quite the interesting morning. If their boss wore that kind of clothing, he'd be volunteering to come by and fix things in this office. He crouched back down quickly when he noticed the blind one - Jane - staring at him disapprovingly.

Cho merely shook his head and proceeded to leaf through the stack of papers Carter had left them.

Jane retreated to his couch to ponder these new developments. He had lots of pieces to sort through, little tiny jigsaw puzzle pieces that needed jigsawing; so that he could understand what was going on and how he was going to get Lisbon away from Carter as quickly as possible…or close the case, whichever came first.

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_For dress pic __go to _www (dot) associatedcontent (dot) com/article/245154/the_little_black_dress_collection_by (dot) html?cat=46

_I know it's a long address, but if you're interested, I figured I should put it up rather than getting multiple requests for the link :)_

_Hope you all enjoyed it, even though I did have to go through the backstory..._

_Next chapter - Party at Lisbon's (sorry 'Tina's')!!!_

_Arc  
_


	4. Furtive Operatiomns

_Finally, we get to the party...well, maybe not finally because it's really on the fourth chapter or something but I felt the need to make some kind of statement and I really didn't have anything else to say :)

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Furtive Operations

_Later that evening_

Van Pelt and Jane were still waiting at the front door of 'Lisbon's house'. They had rung the bell three times already, and still no one had greeted them. Van Pelt knew that Jane was contemplating just trying to break into the house. He had been acting strange all day, well, strange for Jane. She knew he was intrigued by this new facet of Lisbon; this past that he so obviously didn't know anything about. Lisbon was better at keeping things from Jane that she had thought. Van Pelt would have to ask her how she did it.

Jane was getting increasingly anxious. He wanted to see Lisbon now.

Finally, the front door opened, and a shirtless Agent Carter greeted them. Van Pelt's eyes fluttered quickly; so NOT what she had been expecting.

"You're here!" He exclaimed, reaching forward to hug them both. Van Pelt was too surprised to think through what this over-excited greeting could mean.

He led them back through the foyer and the rest of the house to the backyard. It was a beautiful house, large, just short of being a cookie-cutter mansion. There were already other people in the backyard. Loud music was playing from some area of the home. There were two other women and three men. Van Pelt noticed that one of the men was 'Billy'; he looked older and more weathered than the picture in the file indicated, but that's probably what happened to you in jail.

Jane cast a cursory glance around at the other people congregating in Lisbon's 'backyard'. There was a very high level of familiarity and loyalty wavering about. They were definitely intruding on the 'party', Billy and co. did not look impressed, but they needed Carter and his talents. They would be tolerated nothing more. It was going to be up to Lisbon to ingratiate herself into their circle. She seemed to be doing an okay job of it by the looks she was receiving from the other two men. Billy obviously already knew her from their shared past.

Van Pelt was thinking about the ethnic mix at this party. It was very strange; especially as this was supposed to be some form of a mob, or mafia, or gang. Billy was Columbian, not really a surprise, she knew that already. But the other two men were of Asian descent, one of the women looked Spanish and the other was African-American. Lisbon looked out of place, being the only Caucasian person at the make-shift party. Well, now that she and Jane were here that would change but it was slightly off-putting. Van Pelt was used to being part of the majority. She shook off that slightly prejudiced view and reminded herself she was here because she was 'Tina's friend'.

"Tina!" Van Pelt called out loudly, hoping her voice would carry over the loud music.

"Grace!" Lisbon practically yelled, she sounded tipsy, she looked it too. Lisbon (or Tina as they now had to refer to her) ran as fast as her stiletto-ed feet could carry her. She lunged at Van Pelt pulling her into a large, girlie hug. "Eyes and ears watching out here." She whispered, before pulling back at jumping up and down a little. "I'm so glad you came!" She exclaimed again, the focus of the other two women, the Spanish beauty and the African-American gazelle, were watching them carefully. A definite perusing eye, one wrong move and Van Pelt knew she'd be 'kicked out' of the group.

She dragged Grace over to meet the women, Jane followed at a safer distance behind them. "This is Noel and Layla." She said.

"Nice to meet you." Van Pelt greeted them.

They merely nodded; apparently you had to survive the first meeting before they even thought about talking to you. Grace wondered how Lisbon had managed to infiltrate them so easily.

Jane was watching everything with a keen eye, trying to pick out who was the leader and who were the followers. At the moment it seemed as though this was merely a meet and greet; getting reacquainted with 'Tina' and Carter, well for Billy anyway. The others seemed to be meeting them for the first time. Lisbon was quite a handful as Tina. She was working the room (backyard) better than he'd seen some of the most circuited junket queens do.

"Oh!" Lisbon abruptly exclaimed, "I love this song." She stood up and moved toward Carter, pulling him away from Billy so that he would dance with her.

"Tina, baby…Billy and I were having a conversation." Carter gently chastised her, but still allowed her to begin dancing with him.

"Billy doesn't mind, do you Billy?" Tina asked coquettishly.

Billy shook his head, apparently mesmerized by the force that was Tina.

Jane noted that he definitely was not the leader of this little pack. But now the question remained –who was?

Noel and Layla soon stood, grabbing their respective dance partners. The taller Asian man partnered with Noel, and the shorter man dancing with the thinner African woman.

Van Pelt looked entirely uncomfortable sitting on one of the useless deckchairs. Night had fallen a while ago, and she was not in the mood for dancing.

Jane moved toward her, sitting on the opposite chair. If she found it odd to see a man in a three-piece suit reclining gracefully on a plastic deck chair she didn't say anything, although there was a slight twinkle in her eye. Jane watched the couples carefully, and if his eyes seemed to linger on Lisbon longer than strictly necessary, he was glad his analytic brain was giving himself a reprieve and not noticing it.

"Tina's…quite excited tonight, isn't she." Van Pelt started. She couldn't get a handle on this new version of Lisbon. She wasn't anything like her boss, and it was very difficult to know where or what she was supposed to be doing.

"Yes." Jane smiled. He definitely preferred Lisbon to Tina.

"What exactly are we doing here tonight?" She asked.

"Having a party I'd wager." Jane replied.

"Jane!" She laughed a little. She always could rely on Jane to calm her down when she was getting too anxious although a lot of the time he created the situations where she would be embarrassed. Was it wrong it be thankful that Lisbon was the one that held Jane's attention for most of the time?

"Just relax Grace. Have fun, that's all for now." Jane leaned back, stretching out on the chair as if he had found a replacement couch. He went back to Lisbon watching. She was still dancing with Carter.

At some point, probably during the fifth song, Billy left the backyard. Jane watched Lisbon watch him leave. She tapped Carter on the side with two fingers three times. Ah, a signal. Carter spun her around a few times; she made that noise she did sometimes when Jane had surprised her in a nice way, and more likely than not had managed to _not_ annoy her for more than a few hours. Carter left her then, following the same route Billy had just taken, probably to discuss those business arrangements that needed to be arranged.

Lisbon spent another two songs dancing around Noel and Layla; the other two men, whose names that had yet to get retreated to another section of the house. Van Pelt rolled her eyes at Jane, yes, he too was incredibly bored.

Grace couldn't imagine how Lisbon had managed to do this undercover assignment for so long. It was boring enough just hanging out at this party, how had she done this for months? As Tina too, it was like that particular persona of hers never slept or rested. She was always hyper, bubbly, doing something, anything. Plus there was the added danger of having to always be acting, knowing that the people you were hanging out with would kill you if they ever found out you were a cop. Geez, this was getting confusing and tiring and she wasn't even the one doing it. Grace shook her head, and noticed that Lisbon/Tina was making her way over to them.

Lisbon crawled onto the same chair Grace was seated on. She curled up on the end of the chair, resting her head on Grace's lap.

Van Pelt was utterly surprised. Lisbon was not a touchy/feely person. At least, she had never seemed to be when they got together for their girl time. Jane looked surprised too, which was saying something.

"Just make sure I don't fall asleep." Lisbon mumbled.

_She really trusts us_, Jane realized. _Trusts Grace at least_.

Patrick remembered the trust fall he had made her do, all those months ago… At the time it had seemed like a brilliant idea. Looking back, it didn't quite carry the same weight he thought it would. She still didn't trust him. If Grace hadn't of been here, he was sure Lisbon wouldn't have relaxed enough to fall asleep, or doze, or whatever it was she was currently doing with her head on Grace's lap. He had thought that the trust fall would build their trust, prove to her that she trusted him. Because he certainly trusted her, Jane trusted Lisbon more than he trusted anyone, but what she had said that day had cut him, in ways he hadn't expected.

He had thought he was trustworthy; and for her to say that it wasn't her job to trust him had wounded him, in a way that was still unclear to him. He realized he wanted to be friends (as juvenile as that realization sounded) with everyone on the team, most especially Lisbon. That had caused many an insomnia laden night of introspection. He _wanted_ to be and to have friends. His sole reason for living; catching Red John was dwindling. It had in no way disappeared or lessened it just wasn't the _whole_ reason for living anymore. There were moments where he actually enjoyed life, small, minute moments, where Lisbon's eyes lighting up, Rigsby's flustering flirtations with Van Pelt, Cho's miniscule expressions of amusement, his sarcasm and Van Pelt's sweetness made him smile, made him value being alive. All of these things, they made him want Lisbon to trust him. The fact that she had said she didn't was hurtful. Of course, she hadn't intended to hurt him, she never intended to hurt anyone, it wasn't in her nature. But she truly had believed that statement; that she didn't trust him, when he thought about their relationship from her perspective, the facts; as she had laid them out for him. That he lied to her, mislead and tricked her, he realized that she didn't separate what he did on or for a case from who he was as a person. So he had instinctively demanded they do a trust fall.

But trusting someone to catch you under prescribed conditions where the objective was for the other person to catch you really didn't have much bearing on the intricacies of a relationship, a friendship. He trusted Lisbon with his life, and he knew at some point (disregarding anything related to Red John) Lisbon trusted him as much. But Jane reflected, trusting someone to catch you, or to shoot a criminal to protect you, was entirely different from the kind of trust, he now realized, Lisbon had been talking about.

They had been talking about two entirely different facets of trust, how had he not recognized that?

He sighed, struggling to keep the noise quiet. He really felt the need for a loud, suffering sigh. Lisbon still heard it and cracked open one eye to gauge what was bothering him so much.

"Where'd everyone go?" She asked tiredly.

Jane had the undefined feeling that she had only been pretending to doze, and in actual fact had been cataloging the movements of her house guests.

"Billy and Carter are off doing whatever they left to do," he replied, "and the others…I'm not sure."

"What time is it?" She mumbled, shifting her head in Van Pelt's lap so that she could see the woman more clearly.

"Closing in on 11pm." Grace replied.

"Sleepy time." Lisbon/Tina responded.

"Okay then," Jane answered, standing quickly and scooping her up into his arms. He carried her into the house, with an amused Grace Van Pelt following. At this point in Lisbon's charade (Tina's life) everyone knew that there was no way she could kick up a fuss over what Jane was doing. Grace loved that even in adversity Patrick Jane found new ways to annoy and fluster Lisbon.

Lisbon was fuming. Of course Jane would take every available opportunity to encroach on her personal space, she had actually been wondering when he would get around to trying something like this on. She lazily pointed in the direction of her bedroom (the one she was required to share with Carter).

Van Pelt held the door open as Jane carried Lisbon inside. He carefully placed Lisbon down on the bed, "Close the door." He heard Lisbon mumble.

Jane motioned for Grace to obey. When she did Lisbon immediately shot up off the bed.

"Okay, so this is the only place we've managed to check so far. It's bug free. Anywhere else in the house you have to maintain your cover, understood?" The Tina they knew and didn't much like (because they preferred Lisbon) was gone, and in her stead was Agent Lisbon, their Lisbon. Their 'Boss'.

Van Pelt immediately felt herself relax. She hadn't realized she got so much security from Lisbon just being herself.

"What's with the party?" Grace asked.

"Billy's idea. I wouldn't have invited you over if I had known this was in the works. It was more to show whoever was watching that we did indeed have friends and a life here. But now it's unavoidable, you'll have to be worked into our cover more." She stated, pacing slowly around the bed.

"Names of the other men?" Jane inquired, Lisbon seemed slightly off-put by the recent developments, he got into the finer points of the case to try and help ease her mind.

"Frank and Ashley –Ash." Lisbon replied, "They're brothers, as far as I can tell."

"So, who's in charge?" Jane asked.

"You couldn't tell?" Lisbon teased.

"Well, not being able to interact with them does impede my abilities somewhat."

"Hey Tina? Jane? Grace?" A voice called from somewhere in the house, "where are you guys?"

It was Carter.

"Jane, go get him." Lisbon instructed.

"But I…" he tried to argue. What was his exact reasoning for him being the one to remain in a sleeping Tina's bedroom? "Right."

He left the room quietly and went in search of Agent Carter.

"By the way, our last name is Jones. Carter and Tina Jones." Lisbon added, after Jane had left, "was that in the files?" she asked.

"Yeah, it was in the files. We read everything that was in there. Oh, Cho thought there might be some factors missing. Agent Carter did say that these files held most of the information related to the case. Maybe you could find out what he's kept out of circulation. It might be important." Grace didn't like the fact that she seemed to be telling Lisbon what to do, but Lisbon didn't seem to mind.

"Did Jane read the files?" Lisbon asked. Carter had told her that some things were not in the files over lunch. There were certain aspects to the case that the team didn't need to know.

"No, Jane 'didn't need to read them apparently'. Said knowing the past of a mob that was entirely unrelated wouldn't help him to read this current 'operation'." Van Pelt smiled at that, she wished she could imitate people. She was sure if she could have imitated Jane as she said that, Lisbon might have smiled.

Lisbon was great at that, she would still be herself, but her syntax would change, and suddenly you felt like you were talking to a stranger. Perhaps that's why she was so good at being Tina. Grace remembered one time, when they had stopped off at an ice cream parlor after yoga class, kind of defeating its purpose but whatever. Lisbon had instinctively started imitating the server. Grace had realized Lisbon didn't even know she was doing it. It had been surprising, the ease with which she had become this sixteen year old girl. On the job, Lisbon was always in control (well, except when Jane was messing with her) but she always seemed to be projecting this certain person, and away from the job. Away from Agent Lisbon, Teresa was funny. Grace had seen glimpses of that person at work during down time, but away from the office, Lisbon shone. The yoga instructor had seen that light too, the only problem now was figuring out if the man was gay and just highly affectionate or straight and trying to make his move on Lisbon. In any event it was always funny trying to watch Lisbon deal with it.

"You should probably go home now. Make sure Jane goes with you. I'll call you if you should come over tomorrow." Lisbon said, getting back into the bed.

Grace nodded.

Once Lisbon was settled, she left the bedroom, trying not to realize that that meant Lisbon and Carter would be sleeping together. When she finally found Carter and Jane they were locked in some eye-battle of the wills. She cleared her throat.

"Ready to go?" She inquired.

"Definitely." Jane replied.

Carter leaned in and gave Grace a cheek kiss. She tried not to swoon.

"Good night Grace."

"Night." She choked out, damning her embarrassment for turning up in voice form. Although she was rather pleased she didn't blush easily. That would be even worse.

Out in the car, as Jane was escorting her home, he said, "Don't let Rigsby know about your reaction to Carter."

She had quirked an eyebrow at him in response.

"He's already jealous that he's not the one doing this undercover business. It'll only get worse if he learns you have a crush on Agent Carter." Jane said it in that pompous voice he got sometimes when he thought he knew everything.

"I do _not_ have a crush on Agent Carter." She indignantly replied.

Jane didn't even need to respond. He merely smirked at her.

"I don't!" Grace exclaimed, "I was only thinking about what it must be like for Lisbon."

"What do you mean?" Jane asked.

Grace felt her version of 'the evil smile' threaten to bloom, "It's just…wow, have you seen him…and it's their bedroom you know." She said, pretending not to notice the expression on Jane's face. "Which means that they're sharing that bed; I mean they have to. They are married after all. And he's…gosh." She fanned a hand at herself. She was laying it on kind of thick, but she smirked even more when she saw his hands grasp the steering wheel more tightly, his knuckles whitening.

She strove to fend off the giggle in her throat. She couldn't believe she'd managed to unsettle the great Patrick Jane. Now she knew why Lisbon prodded at him so much, reveled when he was wrong. It was a great feeling, mastering the master. You had to take comfort in the small things where Jane was concerned.

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_I had to do it! :)_

_Sometimes Jane needs to be taken down a peg or three...and I just had to let Van Pelt be the one to do it._

_Arc, please review. It really helps me to know what you guys are thinking when I'm writing this story.  
_


	5. Surveillance 101

_You guys have been awesomely fantastic with reviewing - love you all._

_Now, I'm going to be extremely busy, and unavoidably detained, so there won't be any postings for half a week. :( _

_SO, I have decided that I will post this one early, and hopefully you'll all forgive me until I return.

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Surveillance 101

Cho and Rigsby were monitoring the cameras. Agent Carter was highly organized. If they didn't know better they'd assume that he was psychic and knew Lisbon was going to say 'yes'. He'd had the cameras placed around the perimeter of the house a week before; probably so that anyone else monitoring them wouldn't twig to too much movement.

All of this meant that they didn't actually have to monitor the Jones' house from the street. They could do it from the relative comfort of the house around the corner. At least, it meant they could recline in the larger streets. Rigsby hated being stuck in small cars for surveillance.

They had had Thai takeaway for dinner. No one had arrived after Jane and Van Pelt had arrived. Cho was slightly amused when Rigsby had tensed as a shirtless Carter had embraced a rather surprised Van Pelt. The cameras were only placed around the outside of the house, not the inside. They couldn't see anything of the inside of the house, only the backyard. Cho was grateful that they stayed outside for so long.

When Lisbon had started dancing Cho and Rigsby had been unsure of where to look. This was the Boss after all, even if she was a surprisingly sensual dancer. Cho had taken to casting glances at Jane, while monitoring the rest of the inhabitants of the party.

Cho thought their relationship, or friendship, or whatever it was that currently had, was interesting. There was definite friendship, there had to be, Jane just had that quality about him. You wanted to be friends with him. He was interesting, absurd, strange, witty … He had a unique perspective of life. He definitely saw things in people that normal people just didn't see. He had talent. He was useful to their investigations, if bothersome. Cho was infinitely glad he wasn't the boss. He truly didn't know how Lisbon managed to deal with the inevitable fallout of working with the consultant.

Rigsby was glad Grace was keeping far away from the other men at the make-shift party. He busied his mind with watching for any unusual activities.

They were falling into despondency when Jane suddenly picked up Lisbon. She had been dozing or something similar near Grace; from their vantage point though they couldn't quite see where exactly she was leaning. Rigsby gaped openly at the screen, while Cho merely watched.

"She's just letting him carry her." Rigsby finally managed to splutter.

"Yep." Cho replied.

"Wow."

"You have to do some pretty unpleasant things when undercover." Cho remarked.

Rigsby smiled, and grabbed another forkful of cold noodles.

Cho grimaced; he'd never understand Rigsby's necessity for continual sustenance.

They watched Jane and Van Pelt leave about ten minutes later; Carter waving them off.

Jane and Van Pelt arrived half an hour later. They had pretended to go to their respective homes, just in case anyone had been tailing them. No one had. Van Pelt had rung asking them if they required anything. Nothing was needed and the entire team, minus Lisbon, gathered at the house around the corner for a quick debrief.

Cho volunteered to stay awake for the midnight till 6am shift. The others slept in the cots lining various rooms of the house. Jane, though, didn't sleep much and spent much of the shift camped out in the chair alongside Cho. They didn't talk.

***

Lisbon woke to the unusual sensation of being cuddled. Slowly she remembered where and what and who she was. Tina Jones. It had been three days since the beginning of this assignment. She really needed some time away from being Tina. 'Tina' used to, every two weeks or so, go to a day spa. She spent the day there, getting various girlie make-overs, massages, manicures and the like. It gave her the chance to relax, be herself. The particular spa she went to had quickly caught on to the notion that she wasn't there to socialize. She wanted quiet, and relaxation. Eventually Trixie had been assigned to her, they never talked, but she wholly appreciated that woman. When her assignment had ended, rather abruptly, she went one last time. Brought the woman some flowers, gerberas; Lisbon had remembered some comment from one of their only conversations. Trixie had been amazed; she hadn't realized 'Tina' had truly been listening to her. When she had told the wonderfully quiet woman that she was leaving town, Trixie had actually looked sad. Apparently she wasn't the only one who enjoyed their shared quiet times. Lisbon resolved to go to a day spa that day. She needed the extra down time. Billy, Noel and Ash, had been over every day since the party. Lisbon/Tina was finding it difficult to maintain the personality. She'd had no preparation time. Carter was doing everything he could to help her out, but he had had warning.

The body that was wrapped around her moved, rolling away from her to get off the bed. She groaned. _It was too early_.

It probably wasn't too early, actually. But they had been up late again. Tina was still into her parties, and dancing. All around having fun; the downfall of Tina was that Lisbon had lost a lot of that youthful energizer bunny mentality. She was tired. She really wanted to go to that spa today.

She heard Carter enter their en suite. Perhaps he wouldn't notice if she slipped out before he got out of the shower.

She must have dozed off again, because when she finally got ready to make her move, Carter was leaning over her.

"Come on sleepy head. I've got plans for us today." He smiled down at her.

Lisbon made an unpronounceable sound, accompanied with a not so lady-like movement.

Carter laughed, pulling her quickly up and out of the bed.

"If you don't get dressed right now, I'll make you do this in your p.j.'s." he said.

"What are we doing?" She asked, mumbling into her hands, as she rubbed her eyes.

"Training." He replied smugly.

_Noooooo_. Her brain screamed at her. Training with Carter was hard, and HARD, and hard! It was grueling, and terrible and just plain hard; but totally worth it in the end. She'd been okay in self-defense before she'd met Carter. She could take care of herself, but that mostly consisted of aiming for the body's weak spots. Ever since she had trained with Carter, all those years ago, she could hold her own against anyone without the need for contact with 'sensitive' areas.

"Okay, okay." She grumbled making her way to their shared closet, "I'll get dressed, give me ten minutes."

"You don't want breakfast first?" Carter inquired.

"You can make me breakfast after."

Carter smirked at her; he did love it when she got bossy.

As Lisbon got dressed, Carter went out into the backyard. There was a sweet little spot in the garden that was the perfect size for sparring. He'd take it easy on Lisbon, as he always did. But he idly wondered just how far she'd come from those first few training sessions. He knew he had instilled in her a need, a desire, to be the best she could be. After their undercover stint she had come to realize that as a woman in law enforcement, especially an ambitious woman in law enforcement; she needed to know how to tackle, put down and decommission anyone, without regard for their physical size or natural temperament. He wondered how much she had improved. It was going to be a fun and interesting experience this morning. He smiled as he prepared the area. He knew Billy was going to come over at some point later in the day, so he wanted to get this done first.

***

It was Van Pelt and Jane's turn to surveil the backyard and subsequent areas surrounding the Jones' house. They had been watching the sleepy neighborhood for three hours already. There wasn't much movement.

Van Pelt was wondering whether Carter and Lisbon were still asleep or whether they were merely pretending to sleep, although she conceded last's night party (one she and Jane had not been invited to) had been pretty busy; lots of alcohol, lots of dancing and a lot more people than they had ever seen congregating at the Jones' house. The whole team had watched that party, they were currently trying to place people's faces with any criminal files they could find. So far, they'd only managed to I.D. five of the twenty or so guests; one of those being Billy.

Suddenly there was movement on the backyard screen. It was Carter he was clearing away a grassy spot in the backyard.

"What's he doing?" She asked Jane; not that she truly expected him to know, but there was little to talk about and they had been sitting in silence for two hours now.

Jane didn't respond, because Lisbon appeared shortly after. She was wearing yoga pants and a large t-shirt. It swamped her. It was a man's shirt. He felt his jaw clench. He hadn't expected the simple act of seeing Lisbon wearing a man's shirt to affect him so much. It wasn't like he owned her, or had a stake in her, or that she should even be the least bit concerned with what anyone might think of her wearing her husband's shirt. That's when he relaxed; of course it wasn't Lisbon wearing Carter's shirt. It was Tina wearing her husband's shirt. There was nothing wrong with that, he simply needed to keep reminding himself of that fact, and maybe, eventually he would believe it. It was an unfortunate thing that he had been reminding himself hourly since this case had begun and it still had not sunk in.

"What are they doing?" Grace murmured. They were facing each other in the backyard. Lisbon looked really tense, and Carter looked quite threatening. The camera angle only allowed them a side-on view, but she could tell something serious was about to happen. That's when Carter attacked Lisbon.

Van Pelt and Jane tensed. Carter and Lisbon were fighting down there.

"What should we do?" Van Pelt exclaimed, worried that Carter might be seriously hurting their Boss.

"Nothing." Jane replied.

"Nothing?" She asked incredulously.

"They're sparring." He added.

Van Pelt relaxed a tiny bit. She focused on the two moving figures. That's when she noticed the stops and starts to their movements.

Instead of closed fists connecting with flesh, she saw that Carter's hands would connect with Lisbon's body in a floppy hand slap; so that there would be some pain, but more of a slap than an actual fist to the side. Lisbon was doing the same to Carter, but she wasn't connecting with his body as often.

"Whoa." She heard Rigsby exclaim; he came closer, leaning over the back of her chair to peer at the screen.

"You're early." She idly commented.

"It was boring at home. At least I can be entertained somewhat here AND be bored." He replied.

"Where's Cho?" She countered.

"Not sure, probably reading a book." He replied.

"Right behind you." Jane stated.

Rigsby turned wildly, Cho was not there.

"Not funny dude." Rigsby replied, sending an annoyed glare at Jane.

"What's not funny?" Cho inquired, walking through the door.

Van Pelt sent a shocked glance toward Jane. Was he positive he wasn't psychic? He sure did know things and could predict things with startling accuracy.

"Look at Lisbon." Rigsby said changing the topic to one he was slightly more comfortable with.

Cho didn't move his body, merely his gaze changed direction. Slowly his head tilted to one side.

"Have you seen this before?" Jane asked. Cho was their go to guy when weapons, martial arts, fighting and any black market information was needed.

"He's utilizing nearly every form of self-defense and martial art I can think of." Cho replied.

"How's Lisbon faring?" Jane asked, hoping his voice was normal. He was far more attuned to the nuances of vocal tone than the others, so he could hear the quavers but when no one looked at him strangely he knew he must have covered it well.

Cho moved forward so that he could study Lisbon's movement carefully. After a few seconds of concentrated silence he responded, "She's doing really well, for someone who isn't formally trained, like Carter."

At that moment, Lisbon seemed to have gotten Carter in a locked arm hold. His arm was stuck behind his back, if he tried to break out of the hold he was in danger of breaking his arm, elbow or wrist. There was silence in the surveillance room, the four members of Lisbon's team held their breaths, was Lisbon really going to be able to incapacitate Agent Carter?

* * *

_Seriously, this fic just keeps getting longer and longer, supposedly in my brain when I started writing this - it was kind of finished by now. I, at least, didn't think I'd have this much to say :)_

_So, I realize I'm being evil about having you cliff-hang here, but this way I'll know I've got you hooked and ready for the next part._

_PLEASE forgive the delay that is about to occur._

_Arc, please review...  
_


	6. Restricted Access

_I'm back, I'm back!! I'm practically dancing in my living room as I type this, if it were possible to dance and type at the same time._

_ Is it weird that I'M ecstatic about posting??? I think it is but I'm going with it._

_So recap...Lisbon has Carter in a locked hold, and the team is watching from their surveillance house one street over._

_Onwards -

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Restricted Access

Lisbon couldn't believe it, for the first time EVER, she may have actually gotten the best of Carter. She steeled her optimistic tendencies; Carter would probably pull some ninja move and get out of this. She needed to be on guard. Since she was so much smaller than he was, it took a little more of her effort to keep him stationary. She had pulled her weight back so that he was forced to lean backwards, curling his back in a slightly unnatural direction. She was grinning through the strain; sweat was starting to drip down her forehead. This was the biggest workout she'd had in a long time.

Carter was pleased. She had finally managed to trap him; he almost felt bad employing his special technique for just such an occasion. He'd had a criminal trap him this was before; it was long before he had met Lisbon. It had been in the month of November. He remembers the timing because he had thought it was odd to be surrounded by women in bikinis. He'd been in the southern hemisphere – secretly. Well, it wasn't a secret he was in the southern hemisphere, technically and officially he was on vacation, unofficially and in reality he was infiltrating a certain Venezuelan drug cartel. One of the big bosses' bodyguards had twigged to something being off about Carter. The man had jumped in an alley. Thanks to a scraggly mongrel dog and this move he had discovered, the bodyguard was dispatched without pleasantries, and Carter had returned to the drug cartel with nothing more than a sore shoulder and a couple of scratches, and a dog. Pesky. Shortly after closing that assignment his life had gone to hell and he'd jumped full time into covert operations. He had vowed to make them pay…

He waited for the right amount of leniency from Lisbon and popped his shoulder out. He heard her slight noise of surprise. Whipping around he swung one leg wide and took her feet out from underneath her; catching her as she fell and positioning himself on top of her as he breathed through the strange dislocated feeling emanating from his shoulder.

To say she was surprised to find herself lying on the grass, staring up at the sun and with a very sweaty, very heavy Carter lying on top of her was an understatement. Lisbon blinked a few times, dislodging the unsettling topsy-turvy motion from her inner ear.

"Where'd you learn that?" She croaked.

"Around," he smirked, "Could you?" He then asked, indicating his shoulder.

"What do I do?" She asked hesitantly; placing her hands delicately on his arm and chest.

"Just kind of…hold my arm steady. I'll do the rest." She nodded.

Lisbon held his arm carefully, holding her breath and biting her bottom lip. This was not going to be pleasant.

Carter grimaced first, he'd done the dislocated thing often enough to know not to anticipate the pain but he still did anyway. He looked her straight in the eyes, gauging her readiness, when she nodded slightly; he did the next bit without thinking. He twisted his torso quickly, so that while Lisbon was holding his arm straight, the shoulder socket would pop the joint back in.

Lisbon gasped; her hands had been in the prime position to feel the muscles, joints and bones reconnect and adjust with the movement.

"Thanks." Carter managed to gasp out.

"No problem," she replied, grinning slightly, "so, who won that bout? 'Cause I've got to say, dislocating your shoulder, kind of sounds like cheating."

"Yeah, in life or death situations, you gotta do what you gotta do."

"And were we just in a life or death situation?" She quirked an eyebrow at him, indicating she expected him to answer honestly or he was going to pay for it.

"No…" He reluctantly replied.

"So, I won." Her eyes glittered at him, but she refused to allow herself to smile.

"If you're going to be picky about it." He replied, sullenly.

"I am." He didn't know how she did it, but suddenly she looked extremely prim and highly pleased with herself, lying there half underneath him, sweaty, wearing one of his oldest shirts, yoga pants and messy, sweaty, plastered hair and a slight, healthily red glow about her.

Carter reached up with one hand and smoothed some hair off her forehead; he tucked it behind one of her ears. She was staring at him intently, trusting him. He smiled softly, affectionately.

***

The team was transfixed watching this strangely intimate moment between their boss and Agent Carter.

Cho had been impressed when he'd realized that Carter had escaped Lisbon's hold by popping out his shoulder. That took an intense amount of gut. Even more, to then talk your way through someone popping said dislocated arm back in for you. Man, he shook his head, Carter was a machine. But now, they were watching Lisbon and Carter do something completely different. They were simply sitting in the garden, looking intensely at each other. He seen Carter's physique change subtly and knew the man was relaxing. So when he'd moved his hand to caress Lisbon's face, he hadn't been entirely surprised; but that she was allowing it, when there was obviously no one else around was intriguing. If one were to be intrigued by something like that. He wondered what they had shared, what they must have been through for Lisbon to allow Carter those liberties, and how little Carter must connect with people for him to have such an attachment to someone whom (and he was guessing) he hadn't seen in over six years.

Rigsby had been grossed out when he noticed that Carter's shoulder was flopping strangely by his side. And then, that he'd gotten Lisbon to just 'pop' it back it. Now, Rigsby was used to getting hurt, and getting messed up. He'd had broken bones, sprains, concussions, black eyes, swollen jaws, awesome scars, bruises and massive welts during the course of his life, but that was just gross. When something was somewhere it wasn't supposed to be, you just went to the hospital; you didn't just stick it back in and hope for the best. Rigsby was up for most things, but stupidity and bodily accidents didn't go hand in hand; anything going where it shouldn't be, or missing when it should be there was worthy of a trip to the hospital. There was nothing shameful in running full pelt to the hospital when a bone was sticking out of your forearm like a pirate's leg waving at the Jolly Rodger.

Van Pelt was grimacing. That was plain disgusting; she couldn't believe Lisbon had so casually just helped him to re-locate his shoulder. Grace knew if she had of been done there, she'd be hysterical on the phone to the ambulance service by now. Maybe not hysterical, but still, freaked out; and now there they were having some kind of intimate, special moment. Perhaps she should look away. When she did, she noticed the look on Jane's face. He wasn't shielding his thoughts from them like he usually did. Oh, she knew Jane thought none of the team, except Lisbon, knew it was a façade but they did. If Jane needed to pretend to get through life, Cho, Rigsby and herself had decided that that made sense. They couldn't even imagine what it must have felt like to know that you were, in part, responsible for the deaths of your wife and daughter. Grace felt her emotions welling up; they always did when she thought of what Jane had lost. But that look on Jane's face just then, it was…Well, it wasn't just plain jealousy. It almost looked like loss. Huh. Now she felt bad for teasing him so often about Carter and Lisbon _together._ Did Jane truly have some sort of emotional connection to Lisbon more than just friendship? Oh, she understood there was some possessiveness regarding Lisbon. That he enjoyed teasing her, and annoying her like some third grade boy with a crush on the little girl who had been forced to sit next to him in the classroom. But was Jane on his way to falling in love with Lisbon?

She didn't truly want him, did she? He thought, sorting through his memories of their interactions; searching for anything that might illuminate their relationship. He had thought that perhaps he was reading things through anti-rose-colored glasses, because he may have been slightly overreacting to another man's presence in Lisbon's life. Granted she was undercover and she was pretending to be married to the guy, so there was a necessity for marriage-like behavior. But this was unexpected; the idea that Lisbon and this Carter fellow might have actually had a relationship in the past and that Carter might be wanting to follow-up on that. Jane furrowed his brow, that wasn't acceptable. But he knew he wasn't interested in the future too much, it was his desire _only _to find Red John, kill him to avenge his family, and then…well, he hadn't thought further than that. Had he? Perhaps, not consciously, but what if he had been thinking along those lines _subconsciously_? What if his subconscious was interested in Teresa? Was that even real? Possible?

This required further investigation…Was his broken and dying heart beating still? Had Agent Teresa Lisbon managed to bring his heart, his future, back from despair? True, his wife and daughter were irreparably gone, damaged and dead. He would avenge them. But after that? What? He had never thought about after? What if he avenged them, killed Red John, and wasn't held responsible. What then? These were the questions he wanted to ask Lisbon, these ideas and questions, these futures; they stumbled upon them during the course of their many cases. Lisbon had helped him through countless dark times and she wasn't even aware of it. Making her smile, making her laugh, bringing a sparkle to her eyes, those were the things that gave him the strength to carry on to the next day. When catching Red John felt impossible it was her infinite trust in the truth, in rightness eventually finding its way out into the light that kept him going. When Revenge and Hatred weren't enough, it was Lisbon and her Truths that tided him over.

"What was that?" Rigsby suddenly asked.

"What?" Van Pelt inquired.

"That!" He said, pointing at a shadow in the house

"Who was watching the front door?" Cho groaned.

Van Pelt cringed. They had all been so intent on Lisbon and Carter they hadn't actually been surveiling what they were supposed to be surveiling. She immediately looked to the screen that displayed the street. Billy's car was parked in the driveway.

"It's Billy." She said.

They returned their focus to Lisbon and Carter.

***

Carter was reminiscing. She really did have the same spirit. She had been such a comfort to him, when she had been Tina Jones the first time. He had been so horrible to her in the beginning. But she forgave him. Apparently, he hadn't been as quiet during his nightmares as he had thought. He had been trained; but not well enough. Lisbon had been god-sent, he knew that now. She had saved him, a position in his life she had always balked. She was no one's savior. That's one of the first things she told him when their undercover operation finally folded.

Lisbon saw something moving out of the corner of her eye, probably Billy. Carter was still cupping her cheek, but she knew his mind was a far, far away. Probably thinking of her, she wondered if she would ever find someone that devoted.

Knowing there wasn't really going to be an explanation for what they could possibly be doing out here, (sweaty, disheveled, collapsed in on each other in the backyard, wearing workout clothes – given Tina did _not_ workout!) she leaned forward quickly, kissing Carter voraciously. Billy had always been sensitive about her, especially if it had looked like she and Carter had been partaking in their marital rights. It had proved to be a successful illusion when they had needed to discuss pertinent information away from prying ears and eyes.

Carter immediately understood, his senses quickly picking up their intruder. Lisbon started lifting his shirt up (the one he was wearing, not the one she was wearing). He helped her; they were both conscious that his shoulder was going to be sore for a couple of days. They got the shirt off well, him using her body as leverage; making it look like taking one arm out at a time was more about them trying to get as close to each other as possible, rather than the actual reason – it just hurt too much. When that didn't get Billy to reveal himself, he knew it was going to have to take in to another level.

He grabbed the hem of the Lisbon's shirt; pulling it up haphazardly, he didn't actually want to take her shirt off, but they did need Billy to think he was going to.

It was about the point that Carter had grabbed and pulled and released her shirt for the third time that Lisbon started worrying. She knew what Carter was trying to do, but they hadn't been around Billy for a while, what if his sensibilities had been changed by prison. What if he wanted a show? He had always had a thing for her. It was then that Lisbon had an idea. She quickly pushed Carter back. They had been leaning backwards, so that she was supporting them both, with Carter leaning over her. One of her hands had been resting on the grass the other wrapped around his neck, while Carter had his sore shoulder's arm wrapped around her back and the other arm played with her shirt. Now that they were both sitting upright, Lisbon quickly moved herself around so that she was straddling Carter. She was going in for another 'mind-bending' kiss when Tina 'noticed' Billy.

Carter stifled a snort when she made a 'Tina' shriek. That noise always made him lose it. He was glad that had never come up in any of his training sessions with the agency. He would have failed every time. As it was, he shielded his response by dropping his head into the crook of her neck.

"Billy!" Tina exclaimed.

"Sorry T., Carter." He said, walking through the sliding back door. "You said to come by when I was finished…with the other thing."

Carter made a show of groaning in 'frustration'. Tina picked herself up off of him, and stood to the side, after an appreciative amount of time she put out a hand to help him up.

Billy and Carter returned to the house. They had business arrangements to discuss.

***

The team were eerily quiet in their surveillance room. They had just witnessed their boss making out with Agent Carter. They all understood that it was in response to the sudden arrival of Billy, Lisbon's quick thinking had saved them from a very uncomfortable explanation. Tina Jones did not know how to defend herself.

Cho and Rigsby vacated the room to get ready for the change of shift. Van Pelt was due to 'visit' Tina soon.

Jane was still watching Lisbon. She was standing the backyard, looking up into the sky. Her face was clouded in thought. She closed her eyes slowly, as if remembering the kiss she and Carter had shared (multiple kisses in fact), she shook her head, and suddenly Tina was back. She smiled brightly, as if amused by the interruption of Billy, and strolled back into the house.

He wondered what had been going through her mind at that point. Was she regretting kissing Carter? Did she wonder if the team were watching, she must know at least one of them had witnessed it. Would they have kissed if Billy hadn't been there? Were they using the undercover operation as a ruse so that they could explore redeveloping whatever relationship they shared the last time?

He wanted to ask her about these things, but he would need to have in his employ diversionary tactics. She was too used to his usual prodding and probing. He would need to distract her with some other concern and then drop those questions in the middle. It was the only way to put her off-balance enough so that she might be tricked into answering his real questions. He decided he would do some studying of Agent Carter. But he did need to get the man away from playing Carter Jones; that would only disrupt his method. It was this exact reason why he was currently so put off by Lisbon's behavior, she wasn't being Lisbon, she was being Tina, and he couldn't read Lisbon's intentions through the veil of Tina Jones.

* * *

_Nobody freak out! This is not a Lisbon/Carter anything...see I refuse to even make up a pretty joined named for them, that's how much you do not need to worry._

_But it was necessary for the plot. Believe me, it really was..._

_Hope you guys are all as excited I'm back as I am, and wow that sounded really up myself. I'm a post-snob..._

_Arc, please review, bring me down a peg or two (if you want to, I won't mind) :)  
_


	7. Girl Talk

_Onwards and upwards as they say...wait? Who did say that? Anyone, anyone? Eh...doesn't matter._

_Now for some Van Pelt / Lisbon friendship time, you know you want it :)

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Girl Talk

They finally had a day off from the 'mob' or whatever it was that they were calling themselves. Billy had needed the time to discuss their intentions with his higher ups. Lisbon had the feeling that they were a lot closer to the inner circle than Billy knew, but it was just a feeling, an instinct…and she didn't have Jane's observations to help her out. She would never let him know but his instincts and beliefs often rang true in some secret part of herself. She had never really allowed herself to rely on her own instincts preferring to use the facts, protocols and procedures to do her work, plus it was frowned upon to accuse people of things without evidence. But Jane's proclamations that someone was innocent based upon a mole, or guilty because their left eyebrow twitched a little when they answered a question while seemingly wholly outlandish often came to be right. Lisbon had taken to listening to her own instincts, waiting to see if her feelings – those without any proof – came true at the end of a case. More and more, they were; she was starting to wonder if psychic abilities, or whatever Jane called them, were catching.

Lisbon had needed and wanted a day away from the house, and Carter, and 'Tina'. She desperately needed to be alone; but she knew Carter and Cho would never allow it, not with the current situation of the 'mob'. So she'd had to enlist Van Pelt's help, they were going to be spending the day shopping, or at a boardwalk, or a carnival, hell…it really didn't matter, she just needed to be somewhere doing something normal-ish. Something normal-ish for Lisbon and Van Pelt, that isl not normal-ish for Tina and Grace because really who knew what that did when they were alone. It was too bad they couldn't go to yoga, but she was sure they would find something of interest.

She tried not to freak out too much about the fact that Carter and Jane were having their own complementary 'boys day out' too. What were they going to be talking about? Having Jane around anyone of normal humanness was bad enough, but Carter wasn't one for tolerating quirks easily. And Jane was a big, bundle of quirkiness…it was going to be bad, so terribly, terribly bad. Jane would pick at Carter, and he would resist, and then Jane would decide it might be fun to discover secrets of Carters. That could lead nowhere good, considering most of the secrets Carter held were sanctioned by the government, and even then not many members of the President's cabinet knew about some of the things Carter had been requested to do. Jane wouldn't give up and then he'd probably be shipped off to some secret governmental debriefing station and their whole operation would be in shambles. She groaned at the thought, even though she recognized she was being a tiny bit exaggeratory. She finally decided; she didn't want to know.

Van Pelt was currently driving Lisbon to the park. She figured the boss might like the outdoors, no parties, no lies, no guns or threats of danger; simply laughing children playing on gym equipment, bike riders, skateboarders. Nothing too extravagant, just a tiny reminder that life was good, it went on, little moments of joy. That's what Grace liked to do when their cases got too much to bear, she went to the park and surreptitiously watched small children, she couldn't overtly watch small children, not in this day and age, she'd get accused of stalking or something, but she would go the park, bask in the sunlight, read a book and listen to the laughs of small children. Tiny trickles of golden warmth heating up her soul. She loved it. Perhaps Lisbon would too.

Lisbon was in heaven. She was lying on a blanket, something Van Pelt had had the forethought to bring with them, they were in a park, a beautiful green, glowing with sunlight, park. There were families of happiness, dogs of loyalty, bike riders of streamlined efficiency, skaters both on boards and blades, kids on tricycles; it was practically perfect. She had her eyes closed but she could still imagine the small children playing in the sand, little chubby hands grasping at tiny plastic shovels; gorgeous eyes peering out at the world in defenseless innocence. She let out a breath, reveling in the midday warmth.

"Hey Lisbon." Van Pelt suddenly said, intruding on her quiet.

"Yeah?" She couldn't even be bothered to open her eyes. She wouldn't even be surprised if soon she reverted to moans and hums. It took too much effort to even think at a normal human level.

"Can I…talk to you about something?" She faltered there in the middle.

Lisbon noticed, damn. That meant it's something not entirely work related, but kind of, and it's important enough that it's got her thinking about ruining my wonderful day off, but at the same time Grace is worried it might ruin more than just today…and it can't wait for this case to be over either. She grimaced as she began the process of raising herself off the blanket. Resting on her elbows, very reminiscent of the other day (when she had had to kiss Carter to distract Billy) she finally asked, "Is it bad?"

"No … no. I don't, I mean … at least. No. I don't think so." Grace managed to stumble out the words. She heaved a sigh. This was a terrible start. Why had she decided today was the day she needed to bring this up with Lisbon. Couldn't this have waited until the case was over? No, there was a reason, Carter and Jane were together today too, and they were alone. She knew Jane was planning something, whether it was simply an information gathering hypnosis or something more dangerous more personally intrusive, she wasn't sure, but the look in his eyes when he'd realized he was going to be spending the day alone with the man was not reassuring. He was up to _something_ and it definitely concerned Lisbon. Grace knew she needed to forewarn her boss. Jane flustered everybody easily, and sometimes you just needed a little warning so you could do damage control before he blew everyone out of airplane.

"Um…I think…um…" Grace frowned at herself, now she couldn't even say what she needed to say with any semblance of any knowledge of the English language.

"Is this about Jane?" Lisbon inquired. She had a sinking feeling in her chest. It was about Jane. What had he done now? She'd thought he understood how important it was for him to behave. "What has he done now?" She groaned.

"Oh no, nothing. He hasn't done anything ... yet. It's more…something I've noticed about him recently, which you wouldn't have because you're busy being Tina." Grace quickly explained.

"What is it?" Lisbon asked, suddenly concerned. The team didn't know Jane as well as she did, they didn't understand to what extent his need for revenge went, they understood cursorily, but they were missing those intimate moments of despair, rage and complete brokenness.

Van Pelt should have been surprised at the sudden change in Lisbon. But she wasn't. Had these two fallen into some kind of love and not noticed? It was the only possible explanation other than some soap opera concoction that they were secretly living together or having each other's alien babies. Van Pelt scolded herself; she did always get carried away when anything of the romantic nature popped up. Lisbon cared deeply about every member of her team, she would probably be just as concerned if she were here talking about some concern she had for Rigsby or Cho, or even Minelli.

"It's not bad…" Grace finally said, with a slight chuckle. Hoping Lisbon wouldn't be too mad when she finally managed to tell her what she thinking. "Well, it might possibly be bad eventually if we don't pre-empt it."

"Oh, ok ay then." Lisbon said; she pushed herself into a sitting position; she seemed to have realized this talk was going to take a while. Grace seemed to be struggling for the right words, and Grace didn't like to say anything unless she could say it productively and prosaically. The woman really did need to learn to just spit it out and wait for the fall out to occur, rather than trying to sugar-coat everything beforehand, sometimes it was just unavoidable.

"Lately, Jane's been…odd."

"Jane's always odd." Lisbon replied with a twisted grin.

"Yes, but no. Not like this."

"How do you mean?"

"I think he's been feeling some emotions that he hasn't felt in a while." She tried to go slowly, she didn't want to just come out and say 'I think Jane's in love with you' but what other possible way could she say it? She'd been trying all last night to figure out a good way to broach the subject and none were forthcoming.

"Emotions?" Now why had that come out sounding like she didn't think he was capable of emotions, of feeling?

"About … you." Grace finished, quickly looking away. She did not want to see the look on Lisbon's face after taking in that piece of information.

"Emotions about me?" Lisbon was thinking hard, what possible emotions could Jane be feeling in regard to her?

Grace didn't think Lisbon was truly that dense, after all, the woman only blushed around Jane. "Yes, you."

Lisbon looked at Grace strangely. What was she talking about? She racked her brains for anything remotely connected to what she might be meaning. Patrick Jane obviously had feelings and emotions. He just kept them entirely under wraps. He was in the middle of some several year revenge-bent. He was devastated by the loss of his wife and child. Hatred filled him; so he took comfort in the simplest things. He enjoyed causing people to smile and he thrilled in the chase of wrong-doers, regardless of the fact that sometimes his actions could be construed as immoral or unethical. But in the grander scheme of things they did have a purpose. She shook her head slowly, what on earth was Grace thinking?

"Okay, you're going to have to walk me through this…" she finally said.

"Ever since Agent Carter's been here, Jane's been acting weird." Grace started, maybe if she re-orientated herself it would become easier to tell her boss that she though the man who made her life hell was romantically interested in her.

Lisbon gave her a look; the one that said 'why is this any different from usual?'

Grace smiled back, "Weird, _for_ Jane." She clarified.

Lisbon was intrigued, 'weird, for Jane' usually only occurred when something from his past, or something concerning Red John happened. She remembered that intense look he'd had when he explained his institutionalized past, with Sophie. That was weird, seeing Jane so human, so broken, he never let anyone see that. She had wanted, so much more than she could have expressed, to say anything rather than 'thank you for being so honest with me', but nothing else had seemed appropriate. Everything else was either too intimate, too clichéd, or too _wrong_.

When it became clear that Lisbon was waiting of her to continue, Grace said "weird for Jane like how…" she paused, there was only one thing she could say here that would have any recognition for Lisbon. But it would mean discussing a topic the team tried not to … "it's not weird anymore for how Rigsby behaves when other men talk to me." She cringed, bad sentence structure aside, she hoped that statement wasn't too convoluted for Lisbon to follow.

_What!_ Lisbon exclaimed silently. She was glad her training with Jane had caused her to keep a lot of her thoughts internalized. She never would have thought she'd be thanking the day the met Patrick Jane. Rigsby acts weird because he has a crush on Van Pelt, perhaps 'crush' was too juvenile a word, but still … the man was practically neanderthallic when other 'unsafe' men interacted with her. Lisbon slowed her thinking down; she was supposed to be thinking about Jane, not the situation with Van Pelt and Rigsby. Thankfully, they were both observing the 'we work together' line, so nothing untoward had happened yet, except for that hypnotized kiss; which was being excused from the public consciousness simply because he had been hypnotized and therefore, technically, couldn't be held responsible for his actions.

"So, you think Jane's jealous of Carter?" Lisbon said.

"Eh…" Grace tried not to answer that, the tone of Lisbon's voice indicated she thought Jane was being irrational; which did make sense if you didn't know the man was falling in love with you. "I think that you're missing my point." She finally noted.

"What would that be?" Lisbon asked, she was tiring of the conversation, was Jane really childish enough to be playing the 'I want that toy, because he's playing with it' game?

Grace could practically hear the waves of disbelief coming off of Lisbon. "I think, having Carter here, made Jane realize that he may have certain feelings toward you, that he hadn't previously recognized."

"Okkaaay." Lisbon said; looking at her like she was bordering the line of insanity.

"Which leads me to believe that he's thinking about doing his usual tricks. He's with Carter right now, you know." Grace pointed out.

"Carter can take care of himself." She replied.

"Yes, but this is different, because well ... I think he might actually, you know, want to be more than … whatever it is you two are right now." Grace breathed in a huge gasp of air. She felt like she had just a run a lap of a football field, how was this conversation taking so much out of her?

"Grace, I hate to break this to you, but Jane's married." Lisbon said; laughter understood by the tone in her voice.

"His wife died, what? Over five years ago, or something like that." Grace replied.

"Yes. His wife died." Lisbon conceded, "But he's still married to her. He always will be."

Now it was Grace's turn to be confused. What point was Lisbon trying to make?

At the clearly perplexed face of one Grace Van Pelt, Lisbon elaborated, "When someone, that you're married to, dies, it takes a while for that realization to settle in. And until it does, for all intents and purposes, you're still married to that person. Some people can accept it and move on relatively quickly. I mean, grieve and miss them, but still move on. Some people can't or don't."

Grace inclined her head, just what was Lisbon getting at?

"Jane might very well be 'single' to the law and moral/ethical rules but he's very much still married to his wife."Lisbon stopped for a moment to throw a wayward Frisbee back at some teenagers. "Until Jane comes to grips with the fact that he is single, nothing will ever come of any infatuation or crush he may develop."

Grace was astounded; she couldn't believe Lisbon was behaving so 'matter of fact'ly. But, thankfully, she grasped hold of something Lisbon had said '_infatuation or crush'_. "But Lisbon, that's what I'm saying. I don't think it's just a crush or an infatuation with you. I think he's falling in love with you."

Lisbon didn't even react. That was the scary part, it was like she either already knew and didn't care or that it was so far out of the realm of possibility that it didn't even matter. "Grace, Jane would have to come to the realization that his wife is gone, in some form of acceptance, for him to even be able to form that kind of attachment to anyone else. And if he does 'love' me as you say, then it's the exact same way he 'loves' you. The same way he loves any member of the team."

Grace was in shock. Completely and utterly in shock. "But, what about…" Now she couldn't even remember what she had been trying to say in the first place, "Do you want him to…" she couldn't finish that sentence either.

"I realize Jane is going to be curious about my past with Carter. It's in his nature. Carter will be fine, trust me." Lisbon finally said, when it became clear Grace was stuck in some shocked form of limbo.

Before Van Pelt had the opportunity to respond, Cho called. There were multiple people arriving at the home, and Carter and Jane had not returned from wherever they had gone, and neither of them were answering their phones.

* * *

_I totally had to give Lisbon some explanation time for why she hasn't realized thing about Jane, and besides she's been busy being 'Tina' so you know...things are afoot._

_If you noticed there was something missing in Lisbon and Van Pelt's conversation, props to you :) If you didn't, hehe, I'm not telling!!!!_

_Arc, I do so love hearing your thoughts...just saying... *hint*  
_


	8. Guy Talk

_FiveRoses – you rock, thanks for the comments and the phrase adjustment. Now why couldn't I see that when I did my edit? I'll just go fix that now and no one will be any the wiser…except you. But you won't tell anyone will you? __;)_

_Wait, damn, all they have to do is go to the reviews page and they'll all know what I'm talking about. WAIT NO, No one do that…I'm not very good at the secretive stuff am I?_

_Oh and side note, I've heard rumors that an Agent will be put in charge of Red John's case; a man who just might not fall under the charms of one Mr. P. Jane AND who just might have been involved with Lisbon in the past! Has anybody else been hearing the same things? In any case, I'm excited :)_

_Also, this was supposed to be what we've come to expect from the magnificent Mr Jane, BUT he and Carter just wanted to do things their own way, so what could I do? I mean it's JANE and CARTER, they flirted me into it, Jane especially, damn him, now I know exactly how Lisbon feels - all the time...

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Guy Talk

Carter was surprised to find that Jane was waiting in the lounge room for him. He knew the man had accompanied Grace, he always did, but he had thought the CBI's consultant was merely acting as chauffeur for the red-head. Lisbon and Grace had already left, leaving him alone with the _Mentalist_. He eyed the lazing man on the couch; his three-piece suit and relaxed position that just screamed 'prepared'.

"Come on Jane, let's go bowling." He didn't know why he had chosen 'bowling' as the day's activity. But he figured there would be enough witnesses that he wouldn't be able to give into the desire to beat the man up. He knew Jane was practically begging to ask him personal questions; he just had that distinctive aura about him. He was one of those guys who needed to know: anything. It wasn't so much that they were truly interested, they simply needed to know; it wasn't even truly a desire. It was a requirement for breathing. Jane was the type of person who, if they weren't so self-contained, would probably be the biggest gossip around. As it was, the man had had enough tragedy in his life that, one hoped, he had learned his lesson. Carter resigned himself to the rounds of questioning, at least if they were at the bowling alley, he could get some throws in too. He wanted to know about Lisbon now, was she doing alright? Was her life everything she wanted it to be? Was she happy?

The car ride was spent in silence. Carter was driving and not in the mood to expedite the coming conversation; while Jane was thoughtfully building his mental dossier of the man. He had already noticed the military movements of the Agent, he and Cho, so similar in their strides, stances and stillness. Carter was more affable, he seemed more at ease with everyone, Cho tended to hang back waiting for an appropriate moment. But Jane had realized after extensive study that Agent Carter was not at ease. If anything, he was becoming increasingly tense as the undercover operation went on; something was bothering the man. He cast a glance toward the driver; he was watching the road with the same intense gaze Cho always did, with an expectation of danger and certain awareness that at any moment any number of possible threats could attack from multiple positions on the busy Sacramento roads.

He wondered where Carter might have been stationed; it was clear from his inflectionless voice that he had traveled the word. At one of the party nights he and Grace had been invited to, Jane had overheard Carter, Billy and Noel speaking in Spanish. He could only catch every other word, but the accent with which Carter used the language made him certain that he had, at the very least, spent some time speaking the language in a Hispanic country. Billy's accent was all second and third generation American-Hispanic. That man had clearly never been out of the country. Noel on the other hand, seemed to blend both seamlessly. She had probably visited the Southern American countries, probably on holidays, but given what Jane has seen Lisbon do over the course of his consultancy with the CBI he wouldn't cast business out of the equation either.

They eventually pulled up at Lazy Jim's Bowling Alley and had gotten settled in lane three. It was off to the left-hand side of the building. It suited Jane's purposes effectively. There was only two other lanes in use and they were being occupied off to the far right. Carter busied himself with typing their names onto the computer. Jane wandered off to select the perfect bowling ball. He came back with a neon green one and dusky blue one; he was having trouble deciding between the two, finally Carter just told him to use both and be done with it. Never let it be said the man didn't give good advice. Carter had selected an orange bowling ball and together they began the manly process of winning the proverbial alpha male status through avid competition. He could just picture Lisbon's amused grimace now…

That's what prompted him to begin his real reason for spending the day with Carter.

Carter was surprised Jane had managed to keep from asking questions for this long.

Jane knew the best way to get the answers you wanted was to ask the questions the other person thought you wanted the answers to; so he asked Carter when he had first met Lisbon.

"I met her the week before we went undercover." If Jane was surprised to find out that that was the truth he didn't mention it, even if he did pick up that that particular piece of information wasn't the whole truth.

"Did you keep in contact after the operation ended?" He inquired.

"No." Carter replied quickly … too quickly.

"That's a lie." Jane stated, smoothing any ruffled feathers by using his 'calming' voice. He was almost tempted to poke a finger at Carter just to emphasis the point.

"I hadn't intended to contact her after the operation ended." Carter quickly amended … it wasn't like this was a secret he needed to keep from Lisbon's colleague.

"But you did." Jane added.

"Yeah," Carter paused remembering the first time he had seen Lisbon after they parted ways. He had been at a funeral. She was a few rows back, opposite him at the graveside. He was surprised to see her there. He hadn't known she knew the deceased.

"It was unexpected." Jane realized. It was hard to read Carter. He knew that the governmental agencies the man worked with must have trained him exceedingly well to be able to mystify even the most adept human lie detector such as himself. He just needed to learn Carter's tells then everything would start to become clear to him.

"Yes."

One word answers were not helpful in learning more about the subject. Flustering people forced them to give more of themselves away. Every time he managed to fluster Lisbon, he learned more about her. Whether it was her surprise, her annoyance, her amusement, or her sadness; she revealed herself to him. He once told her she was transparent. She wasn't. Well, she was…but only when she tried to lie to him. She was too honest for that, she valued honesty and truth too much to be comfortable enough living a moment of her life in a lie (when she wasn't being tasked to do so for undercover purposes. Jane knew this was why she needed to immerse herself in the character and didn't switch on and off as easily as Carter did). Ever since she'd realized that he knew when she was lying she had taken to not doing it. It was a frustrating as hell. The more she didn't lie to him, the harder it was to read her intentions. She had taken to simply refusing to answer a question, no matter how much he teased her about it, when it was something she truly didn't want him to know.

It gave him pause.

He knew to have any effect on their relationship, for her to believe him, to trust in him the way he trusted in her, he would have to give up his need to know everything about her. He wondered at that too, there were things he didn't care to know about Cho or Rigsby, there were aspects of Van Pelt's life that he had ideas about, hunches on, but he hadn't taken to meddling in her private life either. So why was he so involved in Lisbon's life? Why was he so interested? There was really only one possibility and he wasn't quite, fully, ready to, completely and totally acknowledge it. Jane reoriented himself back to the present. Carter had just bowled his fifth strike. It was rather annoying seeing someone else be as competent as he usually was in any given pursuit.

"You used to be married." Jane suddenly proclaimed. He wasn't quite sure how that piece of information had made its way to his frontal lobes. There was the slight reserved nature Carter attributed to other women, excluding Lisbon of course (something that made Jane's hands twitch with a possessive need to pull her away from him as sharply and as quickly as possible). There was the lack of an interested eye in other women; he was a man who wasn't looking for any night time playmates. He was even cordially affectionate with Grace, Jane suddenly realized, those greeting hugs weren't an attempt at seduction, they weren't even a basic form of flirting, they were merely greetings meant to instill a closer regard than they had. It was a necessary tactical operational scheme; displaying a sense of closeness that he and Grace didn't have, one that they should have had if Grace and Tina were best friends as they were purporting to be.

He was so busy reflecting upon the relationship status and tactical displays Carter had employed over the past week that he almost missed the fractional tightening of his spine. Now that was interesting. Carter hadn't expected him to pick up on that, it was the truth too. Carter had, at one point in time, been married. That's the thing about being a Mentalist, using your talents of or for observation; it wasn't merely about observing, noticing things. It was observing and noticing your subjects' reactions to your statements regarding what you had already seen. Those were the pieces of information that truly gave you insight. It was the way Lisbon's whole demeanor had changed the second she understood Jane knew her secret, that she hadn't visited her family for Thanksgiving.

It was the deeper realization that Jane knew she loved old movies and relaxing on her couch eating ice cream that had thrown her. Not so much the fact that Jane knew she hadn't gone back East; that she could have handled, she probably would have attributed it to the misstep in her sentence, or the way her eyes flicked to the left, or any number of other inconsequential things Jane might have noticed, all coming together to help him make the assumption that she was staying home. All that, she could handle; she had long ago come to a sort of begrudging acceptance of Jane's mysterious talents. What she couldn't handle was the intuitive leaps those talents gave him. She would have known she had never once mentioned any affinity for old movies, never. Jane knew too for he kept track of everything she said. Lisbon probably would have been reminding herself that if she did indeed have a liking for ice cream then that wasn't so outrageous, Jane had known Rigsby preferred pizza to pasta long before the man said anything about it.

What had troubled Lisbon, Jane intuitively understood, was the fact that he knew these things about her without her making any mention of them, no matter how slight. That's what scared Lisbon; that Jane might know the real her, the inner Lisbon. The one who still cringed at night when she heard the sound of glass tinkling; suddenly becoming that teenager hiding in her bedroom praying her father passed out on the couch before morning came, knowing what came next was the dawn. Then followed the exercise of expertly tiptoeing around the unconscious body so she could get her brothers ready for school, praying that when the afternoon came their father would be awake, and sober; that was always the dream.

"You used to be married too…" Carter replied, instantly regretting it. He'd said that far too accusatorily. He hadn't meant it like that. Jane seemed to immediately understand, waving a hand to move the discussion on, past the apologies. "It's not a crime." He stated.

"True." Jane said, but then why was Carter being so defensive about the fact? "You didn't separate did you?" No, he knew the answer before he'd even asked.

"She died." Carter said stiffly; picking up his orange ball and throwing it down the lane, another strike.

Jane let the questioning for another frame.

Carter was still struggling with the awesome realization that Jane wasn't merely doing party tricks. He knew Lisbon would never have allowed him to stay on her team for so long unless he was contributing to the cases. He just hadn't expected the man to be so…intrusive. Yes that's what it was. Patrick Jane had figured out he'd been married in the past. No one else had ever figured that out, even people at the agency he worked for didn't know that. It was a tiny blip in his file, and no one ever read it through that thoroughly. It had been a long time now. A long time in years that is, not so much a long time living without her; he missed her. Violet.

"Did you volunteer for this operation or was it assigned?" Jane finally asked. He just needed to start somewhere, once the ball was rolling again, new ideas and thoughts would come to him.

"I…volunteered." Carter replied.

Now why did that sound like he wasn't sure how to answer? Jane mused about the cause of this new uncertainty rolling off Carter. Had the memory of his wife interfered with his thinking so terribly? Jane knew sometimes when he thought of his wife and daughter, he would essentially 'wake up' confused and momentarily distraught. Lisbon had caught him in that state once; she had never said anything; merely patted his shoulder twice and soon after a smoldering tea was placed in his hands.

"Oh, why?" Jane inquired, keeping his tone light, as if he was merely changing the topic from the uncomfortable one of his wife, which he was. But there was something else too; he could practically taste it in the air. There was more to this assignment than Carter was letting on.

"Well, we needed someone who had proven their reliability." He said, watching Jane roll his first gutter ball of the day. A smirk graced his lips. He did love to win. "Billy and Carter Jones already had a relationship, a friendship, and knowing that Billy was on a lower rung, it was an obvious choice that I get involved again."

"Wouldn't another displaced person have suited better?" Jane asked. He knew that part of the profile of the make-shift mob was based upon the coming together of a strange variety of people.

"True, but Carter Jones was displaced enough, he lost his 'family' in a sense when the Columbian mob disintegrated. He only had his wife left, and Tina wasn't into the business." He grinned at that.

Jane finished his turn and watched Carter trade places with him. "But why you specifically?" Jane wasn't sure what he was trying to get at, he wasn't even sure if there was an answer. But there was a vague feeling, an instinct, and Jane always followed his instincts. The one and nearly only time had hadn't (during his adult life) had lead to the disintegration of his family.

Carter sighed, "We could have placed another agent instead of me, but I already had a persona, a life, a wife, a background that was workable, and a friend to get me into the inner circle more quickly than starting from scratch. It would be a little strange to just walk off the street and introduce yourself as a weapons buyer."

"Not anymore than usual. As I understand, isn't that the normal way undercover operations are done?" He feigned a lack of interest in the bigger picture, choosing to concentrate on this innocuous aspect of the case.

"No." Carter replied inserting a sense of authority into his voice. Jane was intrigued. He knew enough about law enforcement protocols (having both Lisbon and Minelli yell and lecture him enough times) to know that that wasn't common procedure. It was slightly more dangerous to use the personas of Carter and Tina Jones again. Especially given the raids and court cases involved in the aftermath the last time

"Oh okay." He replied congenially, "My turn!" he exclaimed in glee, rubbing his hands together like a maniacal C. Montgomery Burns.

"Have you figured out who the head honcho is yet?" Jane asked, after his second throw turned out a 7/10 split.

"I have a few ideas." Carter replied, thankful that the topic was moving away from dangerous places.

"Who…anyone I've met?" Jane asked cheekily.

"I definitely think of the people you've met Ash and Layla are in charge. But then again, they could just be the front runners…They could be just a smokescreen for the real people to watch their backs." Carter seemed to be thinking of every conceivable outcome and possibility.

"What about of the people I haven't met?" Jane asked casually; seemingly more interested in observing the other lanes of bowlers.

Carter's eyes narrowed. There were only two frames of the game left now. He decided not to answer. He threw the ball, another spare, he wouldn't make a perfect score but he'd be close.

Jane let the side-step of his question go; at least he had somewhere to start. He decided to ask one more question. "When did your wife die?"

Carter didn't seem offended; in fact he seemed to expect it. "About six years ago now."

They finished their game in silence.

On Carter's last shot they had a small crowd gathering around them, it was pretty impressive; Carter's score was coming up on 280. Patrick had a pretty respectable 200, but he was quite clearly outdone. He smiled in defeat, Carter clapped him on the back as if they were old hands at this game, and his loss, then they left. Jane requested that he be let out near the CBI building. He needed to get some things done. Carter hadn't seemed to worried, especially as his cell phone rang and Billy's name appeared on the display.

"I'll see you tomorrow or something?" Carter called out of the window in place of saying goodbye. Jane nodded and walked casually into the building. He had some digging to do, it was too bad he couldn't ask Van Pelt to help him; she was clearly the go-to-girl for all things electronic.

* * *

_So you can now see that Carter and Jane made it be all angsty and not funny, why did they do that - you might ask..._

_I have no idea. Because quite seriously, I wanted this be on a lighter note than the previous Girl Talk chapter. But it didn't happen, and I wasn't going to force the frivolity on them. My characters are very autonomous when I'm writing stories. They often end up doing things I never expected them to, anyway...I hope it was okay, and that you weren't let down in anyway._

_Also, there was some very important Carter background things in here...just a friendly hint :)_

_Arc, please review, they're my happy rays on sunshine in a cold, rainy, cloudy, miserable, rainy, cold world...see how I used words twice there? It's a well known literary decice that repetition solidifies any point you are trying to make :) As in, it's cold and rainy here...bad :(  
_


	9. Surprises

_FiveRoses – are you are minder reader or some other form of telepath?_

_I have nothing witty to say today, sadly..._

_I'll just let you read the post.

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_

Surprises...

Jane was plodding through the Californian Bureau of Investigation's many databases searching for information regarding Agent Carter. He was also searching for obituaries around six years ago relating to one Mrs. Carter. It was unfortunate that he didn't get her name…but that couldn't be helped. Patrick wasn't sure why he was so invested in uncovering Carter's past. His instincts were wailing, clamoring their importance. They had never failed him previously and no matter how bizarre he may seem at the time, by the end when all the pieces finally rested together, his instincts would prove him correct. He grinned inwardly remembering the first time Lisbon had disregarded his instincts. Her face was priceless; that was the very first time he could remember feeling a moment of happiness since Red John took everything away. Huh, Jane realized, even back then Lisbon had managed to brighten his day. Is that why he was adamant that he spend a few minutes each day in her company? Making her smile? Causing her amusement? Is that why the weekends were so horrible, because he was without her?

He was so engrossed in the search for Carter's past; time and physical factors melted away. Obituary after obituary passed before his frozen body. Searching through the databases for information on Carter brought up nothing, not surprising his records would have been cleansed; an appropriate action given his standing as an undercover operative. At least, for the time being that was what his occupation was, Jane was more than sure that at any given point during Carter's lifetime he could have been described as; spy, terrorist (to another country of course), executioner, eye witness, weapons buyer, smuggler, information contact, handler or any number of other identifiers. Jane was sure more exploits were attributed to the man but he now had a new label to give him: widower.

The light was waning in the darkened office and one of the friendly cleaners left the lights on for him. The glow from Van Pelt's computer was giving him a headache but he continued on, there was no way he was giving up just yet. There had been some information on Carter's wife somewhere. He had the sinking feeling that perhaps they hadn't lived in California at all, what if they had been living in another state? Then he wouldn't be able to pick up the trail. For all he knew Agent Carter's wife was listed in some seven year old Nebraskan newspaper. Just when his eyes were beginning to cross themselves the three hundredth 'Carter' surname flashed before his eyes again (sadly for Jane, he had not recognized the function that would enable him to refine his search to age fields and gender). This 'Carter' was a female, deceased, remains discovered in a house fire, twenty-seven years old. Violet Carter. He immediately searched for any information in the CBI databases about a house fire involving the death of V. Carter. Jane wasn't entirely sure if a house fire constituted an investigation, at least he was sure the CBI wouldn't have investigated but perhaps the local law enforcement did. He was correct.

Violet Carter had apparently had a mishap with her gas oven; something about the pilot light and a gas leak. According to the notes in the databases file; Carter had been furious with the investigatory officer when he'd managed to return from overseas a month later. At first, the policeman – Dave Hicks had looked to Carter as a viable suspect, but obviously his connections dealt with that idea. Although, from what Jane could understand the agency Carter had been working for at the time hadn't informed him his wife had just died. Being undercover and incommunicado would do that to you. Jane could feel an anger brewing inside; Carter's wife had died a horribly suspicious and painful death and the man didn't even find out until the investigation was over. Thankfully, from what he could gather, Violet's family delayed the funeral until he returned. There was little to go on, he would need to find the actual file but he knew using only a little hypnotic persuasion would create an accessible doorway to those files. All law enforcement agencies were thingy about that kind of unsolicited access. But this Dave Hicks was a good starting point; he glanced at the time on the computer screen: 6:02pm. Not too late for a good-naturedly inquisitive phone call to the man in question.

The conversation went particularly smoothly, Hicks remembered the case vividly, Jane supposed having a tall, strong, African-American man beating down your door at three in the morning wearing full battle fatigues (probably still besmirched with mud and blood) could do that to a man. Apparently, Carter (once finding out the truth) had jumped on the nearest plane (cargo jet…no seats) from Cuba, Jane knew the only reason that piece of information came out was because of the emotional state Carter must have been in and the subsequent good memory of Dave Hicks. Hicks did his best to ease Carter's fears. It wasn't easy. Carter swore left, right and center that there was no way his wife would have had a gas oven in their house. She hated the smell; she hated refilling the tank in the car too, simply because the fumes from neighboring cars would get to her. But there were purchase orders in her name, and a delivery company had records of the installation, so what could you do? Besides which, Carter had been on assignment overseas for over three months prior to her death, he wasn't exactly the best person to vouch for his wife's kitchen appliance choices.

Jane frowned as he logged off and shut down the computer. He had finished his conversation with Hicks moments ago, there was no way Carter would have let that go. Even Jane, had his wife died in a house fire, wouldn't have accepted that flimsy excuse. He was surprised Hicks had, but of course by the time anyone was kicking up a fuss about it, the investigation had ended and other than the seemingly accidental pilot light igniting the gas, for all appearances – it could have been construed as an accident. There were no added inflammatory devices, or any other even that would cause someone to purposefully attack Violet Carter, to wish her dead. Jane realized he had been blessed with Lisbon's team; they didn't merely stop looking into something as soon as it looked like they had managed to wrap the case up in a tidy bow. She made them keep going, keep searching, keep pestering, until they were sure (she was sure) they had covered all the bases.

It was late and his body was tiring but Jane didn't want to stop. He needed to find Violet Carter's file. Dave Hicks couldn't remember anyone else's name associated with the case, but his instincts were pushing him. He knew, even if he disregarded these thoughts, they would only reappear in his dreams. His subconscious would push and shuffle and tug at him until he obeyed their calls. He was going to have to go to the police station, worm his way into the records department and hope nobody called him on it. Damn, Lisbon was not going to be impressed if she ever found out what he had done.

He deposited his cooling tea back at the kitchenette and wandered, strode really, out of the CBI building. Easing himself into his car, he embarked upon Carter Investigation: Part Three.

***

Lisbon had been slightly apprehensive when she and Van Pelt had arrived at 'Tina's' home. There were a lot of people milling about. There were several cars blocking up the driveway while a few motorcycles and a lot more cars were spread out across the street, at least forty people in total. Thankfully, none of them had felt comfortable enough to invade the house, Lisbon would always be grateful for that; even the persona of Tina didn't react well to that kind of intrusion.

She turned to Van Pelt with a suffering expression, before switching on the radio, cranking it up hard and smiled. It was Tina's smile that appeared then, not Lisbon's. Van Pelt had sighed herself, she was hoping for a longer respite than their short park get-together. She followed Lisbon/Tina out of the car, greeting people with a conciliatory nod, they entered the house. The large posse of people followed too. Noel, Layla, Billy, Frank and Ash were waiting patiently for Tina to finish her greeting rounds. Van Pelt fell into a seat near Frank. She was ignored for the most part, which was fine with her, she never really felt comfortable doing undercover assignments anyway. But she knew she was mainly here because she brought Lisbon some measure of comfort, familiarity. That was something she could handle, knowing her small role in this dangerous (potentially) gun running mob was helping Lisbon to maintain her center, to maintain her role.

They had come back from the park around 4pm. Tina immediately began calling Carter's phone, she seemed okay, not in the slightest worried about where he might be, more put out that he had organized a party and then forgotten about it, especially given it was her girl's day out. Layla and Noel suffered gracefully through her rants at her husband's forgetfulness. They diligently didn't mention the fact that the party had so obviously not been pre-arranged. Grace frowned, what exactly were they trying to accomplish by showing up unannounced? Then she remembered she was supposed to be at a party having fun, and un-frowned. She got a text message about an hour into the impromptu get-together, the boys still couldn't reach Carter or Jane, and they had no idea where they might have gone either. Thankfully, Carter arrived soon after, so Grace didn't need to go into full on melt-down mode.

That's when team 'Jones' came into play.

They heard the sounds of people greeting Carter long before they had the opportunity to see him for themselves. Tina was up and striding across the room before Van Pelt even had time to blink.

"What the hell were you thinking?" She asked, deathly toneless and hostility screaming off her body.

"Tina, baby, what are you talking about?" Carter replied, false charm oozing from him too.

"I specifically told you this morning that I was spending the day with Grace. The whole day, Carter." She practically spat his name in disgust.

"So, there was no reason for you to come back here from your day out." He replied, completely missing the venomous glare Lisbon was sending his way.

Grace tensed on the couch; she'd seen Lisbon angry at Jane before, livid even. But never this amount of anger. She knew Lisbon was playing the part, knew they had decided the Jones couple were having marital problems, but just how far were they pushing this?

"I told you, today was MY day! It shouldn't have mattered if I was coming back here or not, maybe Grace and I were going to watch movies or something, did you ever think of that?" They were the central attraction at this makeshift carnival, Grace realized. All eyes were on them. She wondered what the point of this fight was; obviously Lisbon and Carter must have some purpose in picking this fight in front of the 'mob'.

"Tina, come on. What does it matter? They're our friends! They can drop by whenever they want." Carter exclaimed. Grace realized he was trying to ingratiate himself with the group, at the expense of his wife.

"Carter!" She moved forward as if she were going to push him, "They're your friends NOT MINE!" She answered. Suddenly Tina seemed to remember where she was and with whom, she whirled around to address Noel and Layla, "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

Noel and Layla merely nodded understandingly. They knew they had stumbled across a lovers' tiff.

"I just don't understand!" Tina continued her voice back at a more congenial level, "you knew today was off limits, you promised me, and still Grace and I return from a few hours outside to find there's a massive conga line going on out the front of our house. I'm surprised the neighbors didn't call the police for street obstruction or something equally stupid." She finished.

Grace noticed Layla and Noel look at each other, one of them then flicked a nod toward Frank.

Carter seemed incredibly angry, "Our house is an open house, Tina." He said dangerously, "and our friends are welcome to visit us whenever they desire. You remember when we used to hang out with Billy and his friends; you never had a problem with that before." He stated. Billy seemed to start at the notion that some of the mess might be projected onto him.

"That was then Carter. And look what happened to that wonderful little family, huh. Everything was freaking great, going along well and then one day – nothing. Our _friends_, as you put them, just disappeared. Yeah, they were great friends; they were the best family we could have hoped for, practically the Brady Brunch." Tina seemed to wilt at that, the sarcasm leaking from her body. She actually looked like she might cry. Grace realized Lisbon and Carter were displaying fragility. They were fooling the group, making them believe that Tina wanted the family and security that they had lost when the Columbian mob had disbanded. It was a great ploy, she knew; this anger Tina was displaying could be read as fear of abandonment, a fear that this new mob could satisfy.

Frank finally approached Tina, "I'm sorry Tina. Carter. This was my idea. I just wanted you to get to know more of our friends. They'd been on a rotating schedule so you hadn't met them all; they were so interested in meeting you too. And we'd all been so busy lately that I knew you probably didn't know us all, or would even remember half of us. This was meant to reassure you. We aren't going anywhere. With the business that your husband …" he let the sentence drop off.

"What are you saying?" Tina asked quietly, aware that all eyes were on her.

"I'm saying if your husband is still up for it, we'd like you to join our venture."

That was an opening if Grace Van Pelt had ever heard one.

Carter moved forward then, swinging an arm around Tina's shoulder. "We'd be delighted, right Tina?"

She looked at him carefully, her voice tight but lessening, relaxing as the myriad of displaced people smiled at her reassuringly, "Right … but no more impromptu surprise parties." Obviously Tina was still wary of an impending party rush.

"I promise." Frank replied stoically.

"Unless I'm the surprise party thrower." She amended. Noel and Layla grinned.

As quickly as the fight started it had ended; no one seemed surprised or put out by Tina and Carter's public fight, in fact they seemed reassured by it.

Grace stayed where she was, Noel and Layla were still ignoring her and no one else seemed even the slightest bit interested in her. Carter and Tina were having a very intense discussion by one of the walls. Most of the party inhabitants were avoiding them too. She quickly checked her phone, still no news on Jane. She wondered what in the hell he was doing too. Hadn't he and Carter been having a guy's day out? Why did they both have their phones off? Were they duking it out over Lisbon? That would be impressive but she highly doubted it. Carter did have the strength and maneuverability to incapacitate Jane, but he had his hypnotic powers, no one was immune to those.

Grace rose; she knew it was time for her to go. She wasn't part of this gathering, if anything she was hampering their ability to talk about more important things. More important illegal things that needed to be discussed so that this undercover operation could end and Lisbon and her team could get back to what they usually did. Grace walked quickl to where Lisbon and Carter were still having their married couples' discussion.

"Guys, I'm going to go, okay?" She said.

Lisbon and Carter turned. They were still in undercover mode.

"Okay Grace. Thanks for spending the day with Tina." Carter replied.

Lisbon leaned in for a hug. "Sorry about the evening."

"No problems…I can't come by tomorrow, how about the day after?" Grace said. Knowing full well she needed to give Rigsby and Cho some surveillance time off. They'd been there for days by now.

Tina nodded, before allowing Carter to walk Grace to the door. When Van Pelt looked back once, she saw Tina already making her way to Noel and Layla which reminded her she needed to look into those two more thoroughly.

* * *

_I swear this story keeps doing things I hadn't intended. Really, it should kind of be finished by now._

_Obviously not at this point, but Carter has developed into this full character when he intially was just the catalyst for Jane jealousy..._

_Anyway, hope you all enjoyed it and are getting intrigued. Might be some Jane/Lisbon interaction next post, hope so - unless the characters do their own thing again, like Carter and bowling..._

_Arc  
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	10. Dream Secrets

_The characters completely **didn't obey me!**_

_How could they do this to me and consequently you? You were supposed to get the happy-happy, much looked forward to, Jane and Lisbon scene._

_Alas, that is not the case for this post, I apologize. Damn characters doing what they will. But it has given a certain relationship another level, so who am I to complain. _

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Dream Secrets

It was morning, no one had heard from Jane, and Lisbon and Carter were still in the throes of their make-shift 'welcome to the family' party.

Tina was still excited, but Lisbon was incredibly tired. She could feel a split beginning to emerge. She needed to go to the bathroom and fake morning sickness or something equally solitary so that she could be alone for a few minutes. She hadn't realized how solitary, how singular she had become since her last assignment with Carter. It was rather off-putting, how had she fallen away from her friends this much? She hung out with Van Pelt and the team often enough, but she didn't really have any non-work related friends. That saddened her, she liked people. She was quite affectionate away from the business persona she needed at the CBI. But she had no outlet for it, which she remembered was probably why Van Pelt had reacted strangely that first night she had lain her head on the woman's lap. It was comfort, and friendship and solidarity; she couldn't afford for Layla and Noel to think she didn't have friends outside of their 'mob'.

That gave her a moment's thought too, she knew they weren't the leaders, even in this day and age of womens' rights, she just couldn't see a newly formed mob being lead by two women. They were definitely higher up on the rung than Frank and Ash, and she and Carter had not yet come across anyone higher in the formation than Layla and Noel. But who could it be, they had not heard any talk of someone else, neither had an opportunity presented itself in which they could inquire. They would have to be patient still.

Her 'guests' were lazing about the house, some had fallen asleep in the backyard, Lisbon thanked the sky gods that the night had been warm. It meant she didn't need to worry about people invading her bedroom. That was the one place that was solely hers and Carters; the one place in the entire house where she could be herself, where she could be Teresa Lisbon, the place where Carter could be James Carter, not Carter Jones. It didn't seem to bother Carter too much. He had a lot of practice with undercover assignments; it seemed to be his specialty.

Lisbon couldn't imagine it; she would hate to have to be someone other than herself for long periods of time. After her first foray into the world of undercover, with Carter (thankfully), she had known it would never be something she would volunteer for again. The CBI had been disappointed, she was rather good at it, but she didn't like it. She felt as if by pretending to be someone else she was losing pieces of herself. Carter had helped her out immensely in the beginning; he had given her the methods to get into character. Had helped her to respond to surprising events in the manner with which 'Tina' would, not the ways she would. As he pointed out one day, he couldn't very well have his wife tackling an intruder, she would have to stand in the hallway and scream bloody murder. It had taken them a few goes, of him surprising her, to get her to stay in character. She rather felt like she was in a life or death play production. It wasn't just performance suicide to drop character; it very well could _be_ suicide to do so.

She made her way into the kitchen, she was hungry and she wanted everyone to leave. She'd been awake now for twenty-four hours. It was all daisies and roses for her to do that on a case, with justice and truth driving her, but a case at the CBI was different to this kind of operation. At the CBI, with her team, and the following applications of her being the agent in charge; she could spend almost forty-eight hours without sleep, because the logistics and deductive reasoning would occupy her mind.

Cho would be silently supportive, he would quirk eyebrows and give soft smiles to her from across the desks. Rigsby would grumble and stretch his massive body, he would whine for food and wholeheartedly accept Jane's meddling but ultimately lift her spirits by the very presence of him reminding her of her brothers. Van Pelt would flutter yet remain constant somehow, it was strange. She was this calming, laughing, innocent presence in the office, on the team. Van Pelt would humor Jane and bring to any moment the optimism and faith-filled beliefs that the team otherwise lacked. Lisbon sometimes wondered how they had survived without her optimism…

Then there was Jane. He would doze and flit and annoy. But he would entertain, get and give bursts of energy and ultimately she would find herself being torn between supreme annoyance and relieved thankfulness that he was a member of her team. Sometimes when her resistance was low and her brain was foggy she would begin to attribute her team to a family. Not that they weren't, because they were the closest thing she had to a family besides her brothers; but, well, she had this dream once, nightmare sort of. It hadn't terrified her or upset her majorly she had too many actual memories for a dream to unsettle her to that extent. But it had been strangely significant. Unfortunately she had had the dream while being in the office, it was one of those 'late up-for-too-long' case nights and Jane had reacted strangely to her awakening. Van Pelt, Rigsby and Cho had finally surrendered to her orders for them to leave and catch up on some sleep. She had promised them she would follow, go home and shower, eat and sleep; but she had rested her tired head on her sore arms for one moment and the next thing she knew it was three hours later and Jane was looking at her strangely. She didn't talk in her sleep, she knew that much but he was staring at her from across the office, his body unusually tense for being laid out on his couch.

She grimaced toward the fridge in the 'Jones' house when she realized even in her thoughts the couch now belonged to Jane. Lisbon began the process of making herself a morning omelet; she began cutting the bacon, capsicum and onion she wanted to add into the mixture.

She thought back to that strange dream she'd had. They, the team, were on a farm or a ranch. It was beautiful, homey and old. Rustic. They were so isolated, but not alone, they were never alone. The sky was pink and the fields were full of flowers, it was strange how normal that was in her dream, all those perplexing little nuances weren't unusual, they seemed natural. Their ranch/farm/homestead was situated in the middle of these fields upon fields of flowers, and as in dreams when you just 'know' things without explanation, she had known that their team, their family, were florists, or horticulturalists. She could recognize that it was _odd_ that she and the team grew flowers on a farm in the middle of nowhere, but it hadn't _felt_ odd, it had felt _wonderful_. Funnily enough, to the far left of their farm was the crashing ocean, its golden waves lapping at the emerald shore. Colors were twisted in her dreams, it was accepted.

She had been standing on the porch for some time. Just watching those distant golden waves winking at her, lulling her into a calm ease; the flowers were swaying in the gentle wind and the indigo sun slowly climbed the dusty pink sky. She felt, more than heard, a figure approach her from behind. It was Jane. He stood near her, eventually moving to her side and they watched the fields together until the others awoke. Lisbon remembered wondering why Van Pelt, Rigsby and Cho weren't there yet. But she hadn't asked. Suddenly, as happens in dreams, they were behind her, she wasn't shocked to find them materializing behind her. Jane had embraced them happily, as if they were long-lost children.

That's when the first niggling conscious thought had nudged her mind. That had been the first notion that perhaps all was not as right with the world as her world seemed; as this flowered world purported itself to be; for Jane did not hug. He did not embrace. He was always apart. He did not touch; except to shake hands or hypnotize people.

Soon, they were further into the fields, they were frolicking. Blooms swayed and danced in the eddies created by their running. It was as if the entire field was attuned to their movements, as if the flowers were mimicking and responding to them. She had been so happy, so carefree. There was no past, no future, only this moment; this intense happiness, this indulgent contentment. She idly wondered where her brothers were, for she felt as family they should have been there too. But then in the next moment, it felt completely accurate that they shouldn't. She glanced back toward the house; there were figures on the porch, two women and a child.

"Daddy!" The child had exclaimed, her angelic voice drifting through the warmth soaked air. Jane had tensed then (dream Jane that is), Lisbon knew it was his daughter. One of the women on the porch lifted her hand in greeting. Or was it? She looked again, and this time the hand seemed to be trying to ward them off. Jane had already begun to run; he was racing with all his might toward the home. But his feet were caught in quicksand, he went nowhere. Agony pierced his face. He could not or did not see the warning but blindly ran toward the house. Cho, Van Pelt and Rigsby had disappeared, she didn't know where they went and a vague sense of horror shafted through her, they were alone. She was alone. She grabbed hold of his arm and tried to pull him back but he was too strong. He was dream-strong. She felt like she was but a feather and he was an ogre, a giant of purposefulness, how would she ever stop him from getting to that house?

The figures on the porch were screaming now, she could hear their souls screeching through the wind. It was cold too. The warmth had disappeared. Jane was still trying to get to the house. An apparition appeared to her left. She instinctively knew it was Carter. She wondered why he was here (she never dreamed of him, at least she had never dreamed of both he and Jane at the same time, in the same dream). The third female figure on the porch called out to Lisbon, shattering the screaming silence with her name 'Teresa'. She lost the ability to breath. She knew that voice, it was Violet; her closest friend from University.

Now she was trying to stop both of the men from running toward the house. The world split. Or it died. She wasn't sure. The sky turned from pink to brown, a muted depressing color. The tang of dried blood filled the air. It chafed and spoiled her tongue. The sun wobbled and dropped from the sky. She didn't even have the chance to scream before it fell on the house. As soon as the circumference of the globe hit the tip of the roof it froze, the indigo sun that she had felt so comfortable under only moments before turned red. The roofed tiles began to burn. That's when she realized the women; Violet, Jane's wife and their daughter weren't trying to run. They had the time too; the sun was frozen, balancing on the precipice of the roof. But they weren't moving. They weren't frozen either, they seemed disheartened. They were sorrowful. But they had no desire to leave the cradle of the porch, the apparent safety of the house.

That's when Lisbon had looked down. Jane and Carter weren't struggling anymore. Her arms were no longer holding them back, but they weren't moving. Their feet had turned to stone; the beautiful field of flowers was dead. The blooms and bulbs were cracked and blackening. Heavy charcoal bulbs dropped and snapped equally black stems, when the things that were once flowers contacted the earth they crushed into soft ash; a gray, black and sooty mess carpeted the ground. The fields had turned into a wasteland.

She began to walk toward the house leaving Carter and Jane, Violet didn't protest. She was not stopped. Lisbon looked back toward the two men, they were beginning to harden; their vibrancy was fading. Lisbon didn't understand.

Finally, after many years, she reached the house. She was old and had lived many years of joy. The three were waiting for her. They greeted her and led her into the house, she knew upon entering she would see her mother again. She was anxious to walk over the threshold of the door, but she wondered about Jane and Carter. She looked back. The fields were ablaze with flowers, the sky was pink again and the indigo sun was high on its zenith. Confused she reached out for a hand to hold. Jane's wife met her, she caressed Lisbon's hand and her anxiety began to calm.

Carter and Jane were grotesque statues, immobile and yet still conscious. Their pain etched in the grooves of their faces. Their wives remained upon the porches, watching them, waiting for them. But they were sad, so sad. Devastation was sung from their bones. Jane's daughter was not on the porch. When she looked for her, all she could see were the eyes of Jane's wife; bold, confident, resigned. This was not the life she had chosen for her or her daughter, this was not the fate she wished for Jane. Violet too was resigned. She felt the wives push her towards the door, she didn't want to leave the men in that field, unaware of the flowers and joy surrounding them. She knew all they could see was the house on fire, that dreadful red globe crushing through the roof, searching to destroy all those beneath it.

She fell backwards through that open door. And woke.

_Jane had been staring at her. Intently. He was far across the room, lying on his couch watching her warily._

"_Pleasant dreams?" He inquired._

_She had not responded._

"_You'll have to tell me what you saw."_

"_What did you do?" She finally managed to spit out, too distracted by what the dream might have meant._

"_Do? My dear, why would I do anything?" He smirked then, that smile he got when he had clearly done something against her wishes, or at least something he knew she would have been opposed to._

"_Did you hypnotise me?" She had exclaimed in outrage, pushing herself out of the chair, but making no move to walk closer to him._

_His eyes gleamed and nodded, but the rest of him was statuesque. It was too much like her dream. Haltingly, she had added, "Don't do that again." She had meant it is a threat, a promise of much pain and torture to follow, but it hadn't come out that way. Even to her own ears she had sounded weak, confused, befuddled. It took her two days to shake the dream._

_For once, Jane respected her request. He hadn't prodded, or brought it up again. To this day he had never asked about it, never questioned her and the dream he caused.

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_

Told you the characters didn't want to cooperate with me.

Next time, you'll believe me :)

Please review, because I realize writing a dream is odd, but hopefully it will have given you some insight.

Arc


	11. Waking Mysteries

_Sorry about the extra little delay, I came down with a cold, and continuing to work just took it out of me :(_

_Finally, we get to the Lisbon/Jane take, unfortunately not what I had planned, but you know - whatever._..

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Waking Mysteries

"You're thinking about that dream again." A voice said. She startled, her omelet was just on the right side of burning. It was edible, hardly charred, a tiny bit black but it's not like she was serving it to a guest. It was her meal.

She looked over, it was Jane.

He was doing that lounging while standing thing he does. She gazed at him, really looked at him. Weariness was lurking beneath his shoulders, and he had that vague 'I know something you don't' stance about him too. But there was something else above it or behind it, almost a reticence; Jane obviously was worried about how she would take this news. However he was also reveling in his pre-knowledge. He seemed to be stuck between his showmanship nature and the newer version of Patrick Jane. She was surprised to note that Jane was actually showing a slight amount of concern.

Wow, she realized, that sounded like she thought Jane had no feelings at all.

She decided to ignore him and eat her breakfast. He watched her in silence, his eyes following her every movement. It felt as though he was drinking her in, after a long trek through a desert.

If she had of been Lisbon in this moment she would be cursing and struggling with her body's desire to blush. But she was Tina in this moment, and Tina welcomed men watching her, looking at her, desiring her.

And whoa again, she did not just think that Jane desired her did she? No, Tina thought that. Yes, Tina.

Jane was watching the minutiae of expressions flitting across Lisbon/Tina's face. Some looks were wholly Tina, some were a mixture and one of those facial expressions was Lisbon. He was surprised she wasn't blushing. That was one of his favorite pastimes, making Lisbon blush. It wasn't always an easy endeavor but it was always satisfying. His wife had never blushed, she was confident, self-assured. The worst thing that had ever befallen his wife was the day she had died. He wondered at the fragility of Lisbon. She was so confident when she being Agent Lisbon, but as soon as she had to move away from those protocols and procedures, a softness came upon her. She had compassion and laughter. She had happiness and humor; why did she then seem to draw a line between the Agent and the woman? Perhaps it was a defense mechanism…

It was time, he decided. They needed to have this talk now. It couldn't wait. She finished the last mouthful and he swooped in.

Lisbon was surprised when Jane moved. He had been so silent, so still in his observation of her that she had almost forgotten he always had a purpose in those moments. If he truly didn't have anything to do, he would find somewhere to lie down or someone to impress with his 'psychic' abilities. He started dragging her down the corridor, past people lolling about in her house.

"Jane!" Tina laughed, "What are you doing?"

He did not answer.

"Jane!" She exclaimed once more. _What did he think he was doing?_

She tensed even more when she realized that he was taking her to her bedroom. At least, he had remembered that she was undercover and that they couldn't talk in the open because the house had been bugged. She and Carter, on the second night on their 'married' incarceration had thoroughly searched the house. They had found a multitude of listening devices strung throughout the premises; thankfully, none in the main bedroom or the two bathrooms. There weren't any in the garage either, but neither of them had a legitimate reason to be in there. Carter and Tina weren't mechanically inclined.

He opened the door quickly, casting a hurried glance about the room: no occupants. He pulled Lisbon in behind him, swinging himself and consequently her around so he could close the door behind them. She was looking at the door when he finally remembered to breathe. Lisbon would never have allowed him to treat her like this. She would have put her foot down or yelled at him, threatened to shoot him, take away his case privileges, or as a last resort; slap, punch or kick him. A vague image in his memory appeared it was of Miss Piggy doing a flying karate chop to Kermit's head; Lisbon would do that to him, he was sure.

Jane didn't like Tina. Well, he didn't mind her, but she was no Teresa Lisbon. She was shallow, petty almost, she was frivolous and superficial. She danced too much. Lisbon was deep water under a still lake, that's why he enjoyed throwing stones so much. He loved to see the ripples. Cho was a glacier. Throwing stones didn't do much, maybe chip a little ice, but you didn't learn anything by doing that; you had to wait for the spring to come, so that the parts of the glacier you were interested in might thaw and then melt. Sometimes he forced the stones to skip across Lisbon's surface, that's when the multitude of information came pouring out. They would shimmer and ripple; creating eddies and color, the light would reflect off her personality. He learned so much about her by doing that; but he couldn't do those multiple ones all the time. She was too smart for that.

Tina was still staring at the closed door. At the silver handle connected to that door. At Jane's palm pressed against the warm wood of the door. She swallowed, and breathed in: Jane. She allowed her eyes to close and she focused on getting Teresa back. When she finally moved her head to face Jane, Teresa Lisbon was back in complete control.

"What's going on?" She asked quietly. Who knew how many people might be hanging out near a closed door at this gathering. The guests seemed to enjoy gossiping, she'd found that much out over the course of the previous week's many parties.

"Now, why must anything be going on?" Jane asked, cheekily.

"Don't start Jane. You didn't drag me down through the house, in front of who knows how many mob related people to play games with me. Spit it out. We don't have much time." She moved quickly to her side and made to look out the door, but Jane pressed his hand more firmly against, keeping it shut.

He hadn't intended it, but now they were even closer than before. Lisbon didn't seem to notice, not while her eyes were glittering with anger. She was nervous, he realized. She knew what a precarious position she was in, granted she didn't have the whole picture – the one he had discovered over the course of the night – but still, she knew she was in a dangerous position and it was weighing on her. She didn't need him skirting the issue to extend his fun.

He was worried about her, there was information she needed to know. And if there hadn't been a party going on since last night, Jane was sure he would have had Carter in here too. Perhaps he might have tried to avoid a Carter and Lisbon interrogation, but he was, essentially, grateful that he had Lisbon to himself.

He opened his mouth to start talking but nothing arrived. He tried again and still, nothing. He didn't know where to start. He knew this was a difficult subject; the possibility of Lisbon reacting badly was high. But surely she would have to see the truth of what he had discovered. Of course, most of it was conjecture; most of what he discovered was stringed along through webs of thought, impressions and connections. But it was the truth. He knew it. Felt it. Believed it without question; Lisbon would too.

Lisbon waited patiently, well as patiently as she could; knowing they did not have a lot of time to themselves, holed up in here.

"Carter was married during your last undercover operation. Did you know that?" Jane asked.

Lisbon waited.

"Of course you did." He replied to her silence, "A year later, she died."

Lisbon still did not react. Jane approved of her control; normally she would have attempted to make him get to the point, but not today. Today she didn't have the time or the energy to force him to hurry up; she was waiting for him to bore of the silence. He was used to listening to himself talk, that's why his voice was one of his greatest assets.

He continued, "He thinks his wife was murdered; as punishment for one of his undercover operations. He's been searching for the culprit ever since."

Lisbon resisted the urge to swallow. Any movement would allow Jane the opportunity to read into her thoughts. _What exactly was he trying to say? And what did this have to do with their current situation with Carter? How did he figure out it was Violet? Carter would never have said that much!_

She thought furiously, it wasn't exactly a big secret that Carter thought Violet had been killed. She'd been on the receiving end of his drunken phone calls for three months after the funeral. The weird thing had been; she hadn't known it was Carter who was married to Violet. She'd been out of contact for over two years. She'd moved to her new posting within the CBI and Violet's information had gotten lost. Lisbon had, covertly, investigated her whereabouts through the CBI databases and contacted her about two months after her undercover operation. They met in a small, unique café, caught up and subsequently saw each other every two weeks or so. She had known Violet was married but not to whom, she had always called him James or Jimmy. She'd known Carter was married too, it was one of the first pieces of information he told her before their operation. It made her feel safe to know that he already knew what a married couple was like; Lisbon only had her memories of her parents pre-crash, and her few but failed attempts at relationships. But even then, Carter had not told her his wife's name.

When Violet had died, she had gone to the funeral. Violet's sister remembered her; they'd spent three weeks in Mexico traveling, one summer. Lisbon would never forget the shocked look Carter had given her across the graveside. He wouldn't talk to anyone but her either. The wake had been disastrous; none of Violet's family or his own had understood the emanation of Carter's pain. He had curled in upon himself, drowning in pain and self-loathing. He blamed himself for the 'accident'. Lisbon had believed the reports that it was an accident. She didn't know of Violet's abhorrence, not to gas ovens at least. She had always hated having to refill her car, though.

"Carter believes Antonio Bloch is responsible for his wife's death." Jane usually enjoyed revealing his knowledge to Lisbon, but not this time. If his research was correct. Antonio Bloch was a South American cartel boss. He coordinated most of the militia and guerilla weapons buys for the continent. He was wanted in four European countries as well as the United States, for drugs and weapons trafficking. There were also rumors of people smuggling.

"Antonio Bloch." Lisbon repeated, her eyes downcast, trying to find out if the name was familiar. It was, but she couldn't remember from where.

"Carter volunteered for this assignment, did you know that?" He added, using his hand to force her chin up so that she was once again gazing into his probing eyes.

He could see immediately that she did not know that. The awareness that woke in her eyes was all-encompassing.

"He's dragging you into something you shouldn't even be involved in." Jane added. He was getting angry now. Carter had deliberately misled them. He was more interested in finding Bloch than he was in stopping this 'mob'.

"I should be involved in this Jane." Lisbon hissed, "We need to find out what we can about these people. Billy gave us an opening, and for Carter to be effective he needs his wife."

"Which one?" Jane hissed back, amazed that only Lisbon could bring about this much antagonism from him. He usually reserved this level of anger for murderers, hypocrites and child abusers. Didn't she understand that he was trying to protect her? Carter was putting her in harm's way, and while he could accept that as an Agent she was going to be in dangerous situations, this was different. She didn't _have_ to be here, and Carter was making it worse with his vengeful ambitions.

She looked like he had just punched her. Jane sobered immediately. _There was more to this story than he was aware._

Jane didn't know, she realized. Jane didn't know she had been close to Violet, to Carter's wife. This was too convoluted, she needed to think; away from Carter, away from Jane, they both had ulterior motives. She needed time to sort everything out.

"Jane, stop it. This isn't helping." She finally said.

"You need to be aware of every possibility." He replied, surely she had to understand that he was only looking out for her. She had no responsibility to this man, this Carter. So she had helped him once before. That didn't mean she owed him anything now. He was on a mission, his own twisted vendetta against someone who hadn't even been proven responsible.

"I am. Are you?" She responded, a little viciously but her mind was moving too fast for her to catch up.

"It's me or him." Jane said. _You have to choose, you can only believe one of us_.

She frowned at him with space between her eyes. Their eyes locked together.

A low thunk sounded from outside the room.

The handle of the door twisted. They were standing right next to it, there was no time to move away or create another plausible possibility for what they were doing in here.

Lisbon dropped her head, gazing at Jane's chest, the third button of his vest to be precise. _What to do?_

Jane allowed his hands to rise to Lisbon's shoulders; he was torn between drawing her closer or pushing her back against the wall and moving away. His indecision allowed the door to open further.

A brown eye and half a face poked through the ten centimeter gap. Layla.

Lisbon and Jane sprung apart quickly. They weren't used to being seen this close to each other, by anyone. They usually maintained an appropriate amount of distance between them; especially when they were facing each other directly. Side on, they could be closer, but there was just something about being directly in front of each other that caused their conversations to take on a decidedly 'charged' atmosphere.

Layla was amused. So, little Tina was having some other interesting problems; not that she blamed her. Jane was a handsome one, but from the little she overheard, it seemed Tina was reluctant to either pursue or continue it and Jane was pushing. It wasn't her business to interfere; besides now she had something over Tina. That could come in handy for tomorrow's trip. The boss had decided it was time to involve Carter and Carter's woman in the more complex notions of their setup.

"Come on Tina." She laughed, "I'm going to help you kick everyone out!" She smiled. Tina had the grace to look guilty. But when Layla refused to say anything on the matter she relaxed. A small smile appeared. _That's right, you can trust me_. She thought.

As Tina walked past her and into the hallway, Layla threw a knowing smirk back at the blonde interloper. He merely grinned back, _ah, a playboy. This was all fun and games to him was it? So be it, as long as both parties were aware that that's all this was. She wasn't going to allow anyone to interfere in the Boss' machinations. If he wanted Carter Jones to be the go-to guy for Northern America, he was going to be the go-to guy and no wife or lover was going to stop that!

* * *

_Well, a tiny bit of Lisbon/Jane, not as much as I'd like.

Being sick will kill the muse though. So, I am sorry, but I promise there will be more once I get the opportunity to work out all the little quirks of this story.

Arc


	12. Early Morning Memories

_I just remembered we haven't seen Cho or Rigsby for AGES...

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Early Morning Memories

Cho was dozing stoically on the makeshift couch. Rigsby was occupying the lone cot; Van Pelt had attempted to make them go home for their break, but both had refused to leave her alone. She was quite adept at taking care of herself, besides it's not like she was going to be leaving the premises. The 'friends' of Carter and Tina had yet to leave. They'd been there for over twelve hours.

Grace was watching the monitor, switching between the front and back entrances to the house. She was also thinking about the problem with Jane. He was obviously having difficulties coming to terms with his feelings for Lisbon. She couldn't believe the conversation she'd had with Lisbon either; her boss could not be that blind to the feelings emanating from Jane. Did she really think that Jane couldn't or wouldn't be falling in love with her? Did she not notice the way they interacted? It was as plain as the clouds in the sky.

Rigsby snorted awake. Rolled over, and went back to sleep.

Grace tried and failed to conceal her affectionate smile. Her father did that.

"Morning." Cho greeted.

"Oh, hi." She responded feeling flustered. Hopefully Cho hadn't seen anything that could be misconstrued. She'd been very careful ever since Rigsby had that run-in with the hypnotist. She didn't want anything marring her early years in the CBI ranks. Not that she expected Rigsby to do anything on purpose. He wasn't that kind of man. But he certainly couldn't help the way he felt. Neither could she. Which brought her back to Lisbon and Jane … Lisbon didn't have anything keeping her from forming a romantic relationship with Jane. And yes, certainly she was in some aspects his superior, they worked on the same team, but it wasn't the same thing. Jane was a consultant. He was contracted to work for the Californian Bureau of Investigation, and he had been assigned to Lisbon's team. He technically didn't work for Lisbon, but similarly she didn't work for him. They worked in tandem.

Cho was silently preparing himself for the day.

"They're all still there." She said, nodding toward the monitor.

"The party's still going?" He questioned. _Where did these people get all of their energy?_ He had another, and a new, respect for Lisbon's capabilities. She'd been thrown in unprepared for this assignment; she hadn't caught a break yet and was continually forced to throw celebrations or whatever. He knew she wasn't the sort of person that was comfortable in the spotlight. She hated it in fact. Not many people were aware, but Lisbon had been award a very prestigious medal.

The day before she was supposed to go to the big meet and greet event to collect it, she broke three bones in her foot by 'falling down the stairs' while chasing a suspect. Cho had always believed she did that on purpose so as to avoid the ceremony. She caught the guy, and cuffed him, waited with him and Cho for the appropriate transport. Filled in all the reports and was frowning slightly at her paperwork before she even realized the pain in her foot was larger than the usual stubbing of the toe or sprained ankle. Cho had actually been the first to realize. This was way before Lisbon was the Senior Agent, before Jane or even Rigsby joined the team. This was back when Lisbon was in effect who Cho was now and Cho had been Van Pelt. He had been the rookie.

Their then boss hadn't realized anything was wrong, neither had Borgen (their other team member). Cho had quietly asked her if anything had happened that he needed to know. She had refused, citing a sore foot. He waited around that evening to watch her. She hadn't gotten up off her seat for three hours. Eventually when everyone else had gone home, he had approached her. She had taken off her shoe and together they had examined her foot. It was turning an odd color, it was swollen, and Cho was surprised she wasn't wailing in pain. He already respected her by then, but that night she had gone up another few notches.

He took her to the hospital; waited while the x-rays were performed and hung around for the prognosis. The Doctor had taken a 'personal' interest in Lisbon too. She used it to her advantage shamelessly. Not that Cho could blame her, it had been obvious she just wanted to do her job and do it well with only the cursory thanks for it. Getting the perpetrator was reward enough. In exchange for a date she managed to avoid the medal awarding ceremony.

It was only later that Cho found out which medal she was awarded. It was for a case the team had worked before Cho was assigned. Minelli had been forced to accept it on her behalf, he had given it to her the following week. He had tried to do it privately, secretly, but Borgen had noticed it immediately. He called attention to it. Thankfully, their boss, Minelli and Cho were the only ones around. Cho had known enough of Lisbon to keep his shock and awe to himself it was unlikely anyone would be able to discern those emotions on his face, but he still reined his initial reactions in.

She had been awarded the Medal of Valor. The Attorney General gave those out for law enforcement officers who exhibited extraordinary valor above and beyond the call of duty.

Cho had never questioned her. He had asked to see it then (the one and only time since); he'd been surprised when she tossed it to him. She hadn't seemed to place any importance on it. Later, Borgen had pulled him aside, telling him that Lisbon thought the whole case had been a failure. They had not been able to recover the victim. Sure, they – through Lisbon – had caught and convicted the criminals but they had been moments too late. Borgen still had nightmares about that case… Cho hadn't asked for further information. The details were not important, what he learned that day was how compassionate Lisbon was; how important the victims were to her. These weren't mysteries to be solved, or puzzles to be put together; these were events in people's lives, victims and innocents and the wrong place, the wrong time. They touched her, and he had noticed that that was why the victims and their families usually responded so well to her. She cared.

Borgen didn't. Not to the same degree as Lisbon. Or even Minelli – he was too far gone in the politics of running head quarters, stations, operations. He knew that even unto himself, Kimball Cho didn't see the personal, intimate details of these people. He didn't wait around to shift through the destruction left behind in the aftermath. Lisbon was the one who showed him the importance of compassion in being a cop. She made him better. Not just a better agent, but a better person; he was pretty sure she didn't even know.

***

Carter was prowling the house. Layla and Tina had kicked everyone out and she and Tina were saying goodbye in the foyer at the moment. Jane was lounging about somewhere. _What exactly was going on there?_ Layla had been throwing some interesting glances between Tina and Jane. She probably thought she was being stealthy. She wasn't. No gossip could ever be considered stealthy. Even Jane wasn't stealthy.

He was worried about what he might have given away in their previous 'bowling' conversation. He hadn't meant to discuss his wife. He knew he hadn't said anything too intriguing but one never knew when a seriously interested person was involved. And Patrick Jane was a seriously interested person. _But what was he interested in?_ Jane certainly wasn't interested in Carter, he knew that much. At least not in a personal way. _Could he be interested in Lisbon?_ He hadn't picked up on anything when he'd been around them, but he realized, he hadn't really been around the two of them. The first time was with the whole team and he had been concentrating on getting Lisbon to agree, and then getting her into Tina mode. The next time he was around Jane they were always in party-mode, with Tina. That didn't exactly give him any insights to their interactions either.

He frowned, he heard the front door close and Tina sigh.

"T.?" He called, wondering if they were alone again.

"Coming." She replied.

The kitchen started making odd sounds. Someone was in there. Jane.

"Black or white?" Jane asked congenially.

"Coffee, straight up." He replied. He added a twinge of humor. If anyone was listening in they would think it weird that Jane didn't know what he drank. Thankfully though Jane seemed to understand the possibilities and hadn't asked straight out if he wanted coffee or tea; that would be too much of a giveaway. Carter realized Jane must have noticed he switched between black and white when drinking tea and coffee. It was a habit he picked up from his wife. She used to say that it was common decency to have all kinds of beverage choices in the house; you never knew what someone preferred. Better to be safe than sorry. She was like that, hospitable.

When Lisbon finally wandered into the room; he watched as Jane passed her a perfect cup of coffee. "Thanks," she murmured. Eyes downcast, focused on the cup.

_What's happened?_

He pretended to relax on the couch, running a hand over his tired eyes. Maybe he should take a nap, but not before he figured out what was going with those two and Layla.

"Layla was acting a bit strange this morning, don't you think?" He asked innocently.

They looked at each other quickly.

Lisbon shrugged, it was decidedly Tina. _Okay, something to keep their cover_.

"I didn't notice anything." Jane responded. He was grinning widely, but Carter could see the tiredness lurking behind his eyes. _You notice everything Patrick Jane_.

Tina stretched tiredly, her coffee cup wavering slightly as she reached her arms up. Both men watched the cup, wary of any of its contents spilling out. When she opened her eyes, they were both watching her intently.

"I'm going to have a nap. I haven't slept in three years." She grinned through her fatigue. Carter shot a quick peek at Jane. He was watching her with unease. As if he was waiting for a very important answer.

Carter stood quickly crossing the short distance so that he was standing directly beside her. He glanced at Jane again, before leaning in and pecking a kiss on Lisbon's lips. He didn't know exactly why he chose to do that, was he trying to get a rise out of Jane? Seeing whose side Lisbon was on? It was becoming more and more apparent that Jane did not trust him. Especially given how the man's body tensed while watching the short, barely touching kiss.

For her part, Lisbon was much too tired and too muddled to follow the undercurrents swirling around her. She knew there was some male posturing going on, but for the life of her she couldn't figure out what they were trying to prove to one another. She needed sleep badly, and then she needed some alone time to decompress and think things through. She nodded slowly at her own thoughts.

Jane was struggling with some very disused emotions; some more familiar than others. First off there was Anger. At Carter. For being so close to Lisbon. For potentially bringing her into a dangerous situation, one she didn't need to be in. Then there was Possessiveness, he wanted to be the one to help her relax, not Carter. There was a certain level of Affection toward Lisbon, not unusual he had affection for all the members of the team. He was Concerned, she was so tried. Worn out by the operation, she needed to recuperate, as soon as possible. But the unfamiliar emotions, those were the strange ones. The disused parts of his heart and mind were getting a rattling, they were moving and breathing like they hadn't for a very long. There was some undefined feeling, he couldn't put his finger on the name of it but it was a kind of _craving_, as if he wanted tea and there was none. He wanted to lean toward it, grasp it and never let go. He Hated that Carter was near it. That Carter had whatever it was that he wanted. He tried to remember the last time he had felt this way and realized he couldn't remember. For so long in his life he had always had whatever he wanted. He married young-ish, had a family and a wonderful job that kept him mentally stimulated and well-off. If he desired something he got it, there was no period of time where he was longing for something, or coveting something. Coveting. Covet.

Was he jealous?

And if so, of what?

Jane couldn't believe it when his already tense body seemed to tense even more. If he was already at Def-Con 4 when he saw Carter kiss Lisbon, now he was at Def-Con 3.

Carter had just run a hand along Lisbon's back, circling her shoulders and picked her up. He was cradling her much the same as Jane had done that first night in the house. But this time, Lisbon was curling into the embrace. He remembered how nice it had felt to have her in his arms, but she had been so rigid. Her body had been molded into the curve necessary for the transportation from the backyard to her bedroom, but she had not been relaxed on the journey. This time, he could see, was entirely different. Her head was resting in the crook of Carter's neck, her hand had moved to his shoulder. Carter was carrying Lisbon almost how one carries a bride over the threshold.

Carter nodded at Jane, like a challenge.

Jane could not move. He was standing in the kitchen, watching the image before him. He didn't like it. Actually, it was more than dislike, it was… it was… he didn't have the right words for what it was. When did he become so detached from his own feelings that he couldn't even recognize them anymore? Surely, the death of his wife and child hadn't numbed him to the recognition of his own feelings. Surely, his need for revenge, and hatred of, Red John hadn't turned him into an unfeeling, callous human being. Surely… but no! He knew he was feeling something. He just couldn't, at this time, label it. Time to reflect would reveal this mystery.

He was still standing in the kitchen fifteen minutes later when he realized that Carter would not be returning from the bedroom. Jane moved to the couch and decided to try and have a nap too. He wasn't confident that was going to occur but he wanted to catch Lisbon before she attempted to leave the premises for her much needed 'time to think', he wasn't going to give her the opportunity to choose Carter. There was, absolutely, no way that Carter was going take Lisbon away from him…

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_*insert eerily, suspenseful music here*_

_Maybe not 'eerily' but you you know, definitely 'suspenseful', don'cha ya think? :)_

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	13. Midday Ponderings

_You guys are so awesome with reviewing!_

_I'm so pleased people are enjoying my little foray into the world of The Mentalist...

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Midday Ponderings

It was around midday when Lisbon awoke.

Carter was sprawled out on the bed to her left. Light was shining through a crack in the closed blind, it was directly across her face. She squinted and rolled off the bed. Carter twitched at the movement, but did not wake.

That was different. In the past, he had always made sure she was okay when she left the bed. Rubbing a hand across her face, she walked out into the hallway and went down to the kitchen. She was about to turn on the kettle when she felt another presence in the house. Turning around, she saw Jane asleep on the couch.

She turned back quickly and went back to the bedroom, grabbing a pair of jeans and another shirt she got changed in the en suite. She went to Tina's bag and made sure the car keys were in it, then she quietly slid her way down to the garage. Once there she manually opened the garage door. The electric device was kind of loud and she didn't want to alert either Carter or Jane to her presence. She needed time away from both of them to go over what Jane had revealed. She knew Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt were out there watching her but as long as came back in a reasonable amount of time they shouldn't become too concerned.

She backed the car out of the garage and left the suburb.

Van Pelt was covering for Rigsby's break when Lisbon left the premises. Grace thought it was strange but she knew Lisbon hadn't recovered enough during their picnic trip. She was probably trying to get some time alone again. The only thing that was currently bothering the team was the fact that they hadn't seen Jane leave yet. Surely he wasn't still in the house? Especially since Lisbon was leaving…

***

The wind was blowing relatively strongly on the pier. It was one of those old, wooden piers, small with mostly fisherman lining it.

It was peaceful.

Just the type of place Lisbon needed to think. She could blend into the masses here; she didn't need to watch her back, or what she might look like. There were quite a number of people loitering in the area. It was a thinking pier. It seemed to be part of the human condition that you needed somewhere to think, a place, or a specific time, or a talisman that would accompany truly deep thought.

Her mother used to need Peppermint Tea to think… Teresa and her brothers always knew to leave their mother alone whenever she had a Peppermint Tea in her hand. It meant that their mother was thinking about something important, and she needed space. Soon everyone had adopted a talisman or a place. Her father had chosen his leather reclining chair – she had come to notice when visiting friends' houses that fathers tended to choose chairs as their 'thinking' spots.

It had only gotten worse when he had started drinking. That hated leather chair had become his throne of drunkenness. It sat amid a sea of empty, half-filled and over-flowing beer bottles. Her father had started out his descent with whiskey and bourbon but money restraints had soon led him to BEER; cheap, easy to acquire and ultimately depressant. The walls of their house had seemed to cling to that smell. To this day, she still had flashbacks when she smelt beer drinkers. It was not so much people who drank beer. It was those few select people who drank so much beer that it permeated their bodies; it was such an infused part of their system that the smell would come out of their pores. You could smell the depressing funk of beer on them.

Her brothers had acquisitioned separate backyard places. She was not allowed in those special places. Not that she minded; her thinking spots were never in the house. When she was at school; there was a nook near the back of the library. She was surprised no one else had found it. It wasn't in the library, it was behind it. She spent many hours there over the years avoiding the cliques and teachers. She just wanted to be left alone, do her work and graduate. That's all.

Now though, she liked to go out, to be amid other people, to remind herself that life could be good. That not everyone was marred by evil (like Jane had been), or death (like she had been), that there was light and happiness in the world, and that people partook of it daily. Like Van Pelt and Rigsby, they were so wholesome and good, they were innocent. Even though they saw the horrors that people could inflict on each other they still had compassion and hope. Lisbon always struggled to keep that hope alive. She'd lost her mother, her father (basically) and her best friend (Violet), at least she still had her brothers and her team…

She pulled her thought away from her past and concentrated on this new information of Jane's. She knew Carter didn't believe Violet's death was accidental. But surely, he wasn't on some six year vendetta. Although that did sound like someone else she knew. Jane, she thought sadly.

She shook her head, she needed to keep her head in the 'now'; she couldn't afford to be distracted by thoughts of Jane's situation. She needed to focus on Carter and his motivations. She couldn't believe that he would lie to her. But she had never asked him straight out whether he had been assigned to this case or whether he had volunteered, and truly, did it matter? Oftentimes, when you were working undercover cases you had the option not to do it, therefore it was partly voluntary. No one would ever ask you to give up months of your time by making it an order, not in local cases at least. Obviously if you were in the Army or other defense force, time was an essential part of the operation. You couldn't very well go overseas on assignment, in a war or peace-keeping mission and only expect to be there a week. It was like an Ambassador's job, you were committing yourself to significant periods of time (although your family was usually permitted to join you).

But what had Jane said? Antonio Bloch. Why was that name so familiar?

People smuggling, drugs and weapons… she hoped the leader of this mob wasn't Antonio. She kind of wanted to think that these people were merely falling in with the wrong crowd. Most of them were really sweet, in a rough around the edges way. They were loyal and happy, there were elements of roughness and toughness but it was no more than the front line soldiers she was sure Carter had come into contact with on many occasions. She'd seen many people put on the persona of the tough guy when dealing with particularly brutal cases, so was that any different? These people were getting by the only way they knew how.

She hated it when she started identifying with the perpetrators, another reason why she disliked undercover operations. She got too close to the people involved. When you were in it for the long haul and had to spend so much time with the people you invariably ended up finding likable aspects of them. It was unavoidable. For instance, Noel was a sweetie. She was quiet, and lovely, respectful and had a sneaky sense of humor. But she did have a hard edge too. Lisbon had seen her send a look at Frank once. The man had practically cowered.

Layla on the other hand was a trifle harder to pin down. She was the loud one, like Tina. They got along famously, high-spirited, laughing, manic almost. They were never bored and always had fun. But she was a total gossip, loved to spread news about the group. That was why Lisbon was so embarrassed about the new facet of 'Tina' Jane had forced onto her. She had to pretend there was something extra going on with him now. Layla was acting all-knowing about the situation… She knew she would never say anything, not unless things got out of hand, but she was taking great joy in dropping hints.

She knew Noel wasn't married or with anyone, but Layla was…for all that she could understand. It was very difficult to follow those conversations. She was having a 'feeling' when she was around them. She was inclined to believe that Noel had a brother, and that perhaps this brother was the person with whom Layla was involved with, at any rate in made for some interesting undercurrents during conversations. Lisbon didn't want to ask outright, because Tina wouldn't have cared. All Tina cared about was having fun and being entertained. Tina only wanted a good, well-off life, which Carter was very capable of delivering to her. She didn't need to and didn't want to know _how_ that life was provided. She was an excellent wife for a weapons buyer/seller/smuggler.

Lisbon wondered if the team had managed to find out who Layla, Noel, Frank and Ash were and if there were any connections to bigger criminals.

She was leaning on the railing, butt pushed away from the railing. It was a short railing, the perfect height for her. She was deep in thought, he could tell. But it wasn't her usual thought pattern. She was thinking at a level full-gone away from normal. When she was in the office; she was always on the lookout for him and his machinations, she was watching Van Pelt or Rigsby, looking over the info. board or gazing at the photographs of the victims. This was entirely different; actually, he wasn't even sure if he'd seen her think this way before. She was completely missing from the world. There were men checking her out, he glared at them disapprovingly, the worst thing was that she wasn't even aware of it. Not that she normally was anyway; she seemed to have an unusually low sense of self-esteem. Van Pelt was more aware of men's attention than Lisbon was. He'd never know a woman as beautiful as Lisbon to be so unaware of her potential effect on others.

He sidled up beside her, waiting to see how long it would take for her to notice he was there, better yet to notice it was him.

She knew someone was beside her. At a guess she'd say Carter or Jane. No one else in her realm of acquaintance would feel comfortable enough to intrude on her quietude without at least making some small noise of interruption or apology. She didn't want to look. She didn't want to be taken away from the soothing place she inhabited.

For some time now, her mind had been ruminating on the facets of her situation, and Carter's and even Jane's. She'd been switching between watching the gulls, circling and playing and snagging food from the walkers on the pier, and the surfers. She was most impressed by one man on the waves; his choices were so smooth and so controlled. He was older than the other young men and teens on the beach. The older contingent of surfers, the ones who had been doing that for years, were at the other end of the beach. There was a certain etiquette and behavior she had come to understand from her many times of watching and thinking from this pier.

There were a few women surfers out there too, but the majority of them seemed to be taking up space along the beach. It wasn't nearly as interesting watching them. The surfer she had been watching waved at one of the women on the beach. She lazily waved back; the motion seemed familiar to Lisbon. It was odd, she'd probably seen countless people do that movement but it didn't seem like the familiarity stemmed from a kinesthetic base; it seemed more that the person waving was familiar. But she was too far aware for Lisbon to be sure.

"Are you having trouble believing me?" Jane asked.

"It's not about belief." She replied quietly.

He was impressed that she didn't react, usually when he encroached on her private time she scolded him and huffed in annoyance.

"Then what is it about my dear Agent Lisbon."

"Be quiet." She commanded, "just because it looks like there's no one about doesn't mean there isn't."

"Relax, woman."

"You relax."

"I'm relaxed, I'm so relaxed I'm practically reclining." He smirked.

She shook her head in dismay; _he really couldn't take anything seriously, could he_?

"Lisbon… Carter is up to something, you cannot allow yourself to trust him. He has ulterior motives and you're going to get hurt. It's not just about the weapons bust; he's using it as a cover for something else, something more." _Surely she understood what he was saying._

Her mouth twisted and she shook her head again, "Listen Jane." She replied, in the same 'soothing' tone of voice he had used, "I trust Carter …" _about as much as I trust you_, she suddenly realized she was about to say. She managed to stop herself because she couldn't say that. _That wasn't correct was it?_ She trusted Carter more than she trusted Jane because Carter had proven himself. At least, he had proven he was trustworthy seven years ago. But he had seemed to change in that time. And she did trust Jane, not where Red John was concerned and certainly not enough to be alone with witnesses or suspects. _But nearly in everything else, right? _Everything except… NO, she wasn't supposed to think about Jane and her feelings for him; that was highly dangerous.

Damnit! Now she was off track and it was far too late to pick up that sentence.

_She trusts Carter?_ He was astounded. At the very least he had thought Lisbon would give his opinions the same weight she might give this other man. She had had so much trouble even contemplating the idea that she could trust him, that he wanted her to be able to trust him, and here she was giving her trust out like free pamphlets on a street corner to 'Carter'.

"Lisbon, listen to me." They were facing each other now, she was thinking hard, he could tell. About what, he wasn't entirely sure, but he definitely needed her to believe him over Carter. He just knew this was going to go bad and he wanted to know that Lisbon believed him, trusted him, choose him.

His arms were grasping her arms, his fingers flexing on her biceps in a rhythmic beat. They were echoing her heartbeat. "Listen to the sound of the gulls, the lap of the waves crashing on the shore, feel the wind on your face…"

_What the hell did he think he was doing?_ She thought indignantly. She wasn't some uninitiated floozy he could hypnotize at the drop of a hat; simply because he desired her to obey him.

She focused all her remaining energy on denying his words, she glared at his third vest button again, she couldn't believe he was still wearing the same clothes as their last close quarters encounter. His hands were running up and down her arms, the wind was whipping her hair about; thankfully she had thrown it up into a messy ponytail/bun concoction that she usually used at home for cleaning the house, at least this way she wasn't getting a faceful of hair in her mouth and eyes. It might not have worked if she didn't have something focus on other than Jane's voice. He was coming to the end of his 'hypnotism' rant; she was still fully cognizant of everything.

"You have to believe me Lisbon, do you understand. I am the one who is telling you the truth."

_How could he possibly think she would believe him when he didn't even have all the information? He didn't even know that she knew Violet Carter!_ While he was continuing to tell her that she trusted and believed him, only him. Lisbon was busy trying to think of why Jane might be acting this way. Every other time she hadn't believed him, he had simply continued to poke and prod her and do every conceivable idiotic thing to prove his theories correct. _Why wasn't he doing that now? What had changed? Van Pelt couldn't be correct? Could she?_

It was true that she hadn't been spending much time with Jane recently. It was understandable too, as she had to be Tina. _But could the arrival of Carter have prompted Jane to reevaluate what he knew and believed about her?_ Everyone had secrets from their past that they kept hidden for one reason or another. _Did the revelation of this secret past show Jane he didn't know everything about her? Is that what was causing him to act so irrationally?_

She wasn't quite sure how to handle Jane like this. He was being over-protective, irrational, bizarre and above all slightly scary. She hadn't ever thought he would hypnotize someone against their will. He was against that, especially after what had happened to Rigsby and those other men.

Halfway through telling Lisbon she was going to obey him, Jane suddenly realized what it was he was doing. He shocked himself. So much so that he moved backwards away from her. Lisbon would never forgive him if she ever found out what he had done. _How could he have gotten to this point?_ He quickly released her from the trance.

While she was still in the last throes of the hypnotism Jane crushed her to him. He was embracing her in the hopes that she would be so put out by their physical contact that she wouldn't ponder why she couldn't remember the past few minutes. But also simply because he needed to feel her against him; he needed to reassure himself that he hadn't harmed her in any way. He might not be able to forgive himself, and he already had enough things in his life that he wasn't forgiven for.

Jane was hugging her. Silently apologizing for what he had been attempting to do. She breathed him in. _Poor, poor man._ She thought. _Was he so insecure that he needed to force her to choose him?_

Patrick Jane was never a person to ever be thought of as insecure, but Lisbon was quickly realizing that he was. Sure, he was suave, and charismatic, he was charming and witty, but he was also broken and damaged. He had been the cause, the beginning, of the terribleness that befell his family. It wasn't easy to shuck of that kind of guilt. It changed a person. While he may still have the mental acuity and faculty to use his previous gifts, when it came to people who were in his inner circle; first Lisbon, then Cho, Van Pelt and Rigsby, Sophie Miller (an exception because of their shared psychiatric past), he was completely bewildered. He wanted to be liked and cherished, he loved the awe and surprise that he could evoke, but he was desperately afraid. He was afraid that if he got too close Red John might take his anger at Jane out on them, as added punishment.

But he wanted to be close; at least there were parts of him that wanted closeness, affection, inclusion, love. They wanted him to be closer to his colleagues and so, he was at war with himself. Trying to pick and choose which emotions and feelings to follow, which thought processes were appropriate and correct in the long run – to achieve his final, and only, goal. Find Red John. Kill him.

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_Oh my! Even I can't believe Jane did that, thankfully when he realized what he was doing he rectified the situation..._

_I told you I had no control over the characters...but they do make it more interesting to read!_

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	14. Lazy Beach Daze

_FiveRoses picked up on the fact that I left Lisbon and Jane hanging in the middle of a hug. And it's true, because it was so long I had to cut it midway!_

_I'm also relieved that nobody seemed grievously distressed about what I made Jane do, but it all turned out okay, so I'm glad you gave me the benefit of the doubt :)

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Lazy Beach Daze

Lisbon felt very relaxed. Her head was tucked under Jane's chin; his arms were wrapped around her. The sun was shining hot and the wind that rustled her hair was pleasant. She still couldn't quite believe that Jane had tried to hypnotize her but he had stopped himself. He had attempted to rectify his blunder, the fact that she wasn't actually hypnotized notwithstanding. So she wasn't too upset with him, and she couldn't even bring herself to pretend she was either.

He was so comfortable, so warm, so Jane. Her forehead crunched in that thought; she wasn't supposed to equate Jane with warmth and comfort. She slowly pushed herself away from him.

He was reluctant to let her go; it had been so long since he had physically touched someone in this manner. He'd been hit, fist to jaw, tapped on the arm a couple of times, mostly by team members trying to get his attention, many handshakes and pulse points monitored, but it had been years since he had hugged anyone. Shared someone else's warmth, felt their breath expand their chest; he missed it.

Lisbon lifted her head to see what he might be thinking, but she wasn't that great at reading him.

He searched her eyes for any memory of the hypnotism attempt, her eyes were clear and she didn't seem to be having any residual effects, not like the last time he had done that without her permission. But, that time hadn't truly been hypnotism; not in the usual sense of the word. Lisbon had fallen asleep at her desk; she had been acting troubled, distracted, unusual.

In his previous years of working with the team he had come to notice certain dates that would affect team members. Cho would be become even more subdued on the 23rd of March. His beloved grandmother's birthday, she had died many years before Jane had ever met the man but he knew that Cho's grandmother had had a very important impact on Kimball's life, his identity even. Lisbon seemed to have intimate knowledge of the importance of this date too. Jane had noticed that where possible, she tried to give him the day off, and if that was not amenable to the duty roster, she relegated him to staying in the office unless a complete emergency occurred, which thankfully, it hadn't.

At first, he had thought it was related to her mother or father, but he knew those dates, had figured them out quite quickly. There was no other person that he knew of that could have effected Lisbon this much. So when she had fallen asleep he had slowly made his way over to her, brushing back the hair that had fallen over her face, he had lulled her sleeping mind into a sleep dream therapy hypnosis. It wasn't unheard of, a lot of medical academics hypothesized that the brain bridged the subconscious and conscious mind during sleep. That dreams were the outworking of problems or emotions that needed to be dealt with, or things or events that the person was trying to ignore. He merely helped Lisbon's brain along in that department. Something was obviously bothering her, larger than the case they were working on. He thought if her brain could create the images, she could deal with them in her dreams, that it might resolve itself, or at least allow her to begin to deal with whatever was bothering her.

He'd gone back to his couch then and spent the remaining time watching her facial expressions. She was much more 'vocal' in her dream expressions than she was in 'real' life. She rarely allowed herself to get so tired in his presence, she knew that her defenses, her control, would be down and she had always been adverse to him knowing things about her. It's not like he found out her secrets and yelled them from the roof tops. He merely used them to prod her, to let her know that he knew her, that he understood her and yes, to some effect in the beginning, manipulate her. But he liked to believe they'd gotten to a point in their friendship were she trusted him enough that those methods were no longer needed.

The dream she had had was much more important than he had first thought. When she had awoken, her expression was so confused, heartbroken almost. It hadn't been pleasant, he concluded. Not that her dream had been terrible or horrific, but her brain made connections with places and people she obviously hadn't suspected or even realized where connected in her conscious mind. Jane knew it would take time for her to digest what she had uncovered. That it was, for the most part, very personal and this was one time when he, especially, did not want to push her. Unfortunately, she immediately understood that he had hypnotized her, but instead of the expected ranting and yelling, she had merely asked him not to do it again. She had seemed very confused, very unsettled, she was obviously still thinking about the dream. He hadn't wanted to create a more confusing situation for her; he had been trying to help. He vowed not to do that again, not if it wasn't going to help her. She had made a concerted effort to never fall asleep in his presence again, she dozed, but she didn't truly fall asleep.

Sometimes he asked about the dream, to see if she was ready to discuss it. Even when he _knew_ she was thinking about the dream, he never pushed. This was one aspect of Lisbon that he was _not_ going to prod her about; he wanted her to come to him. He wanted her to trust him with her dream, with that part of her subconscious that had obviously had such a great impact. He was interested to know what she had dreamed, who was in it and the possible meanings. But Lisbon could be very stubborn when she wanted to be. Like him, he supposed. These days he merely commented about the dream as a way of reminding her that he hadn't forgotten.

"Tell me something about that dream." He asked. He wasn't commanding her; he just needed to re-orientate Lisbon to the pier, and to what they had been previously talking about. Sometimes when people came out of an unprepared hypnotism you needed to give them a little time, else they started freaking out. They could get very anxious and alarmed. He'd once seen a person have a panic attack.

She lifted her eyes to gaze into Jane's. They weren't humorous. He was being serious. _Maybe he truly did regret his impulsive nature, his impulsive decision_. "The sky was pink."

"Pink sky," he repeated, "Interesting."

She smiled faintly. _Patrick Jane, you would find anything interesting._

"Were other things different colors too?" He inquired. She nodded, nuzzling her head into his chest once more. It was an unusual sensation, especially considering this was Lisbon. Perhaps she wasn't completely back to normal, he wasn't going to let go until he was sure she was fully cognizant again.

Lisbon didn't know why she'd told Jane that, now he would continually pester her about it.

"I want you to be able to trust me Lisbon." He said.

It was an echo; back to their previous conversation about trust.

"I know." She sighed.

He lifted her face, using his hand to push her chin up. "You _can_ trust me." He restated. He wanted her to understand. She _had_ to trust him, it was imperative, if Lisbon didn't trust him…

"I know." She said.

They stayed that way, their eyes locked and bodies still.

A seagull squawked nearby, causing Lisbon to remember where they were and break the stillness. She pulled back slightly; suddenly aware that they were embracing on the pier, Jane's hand controlling the direction of her face. She wondered what they must look like.

What Lisbon didn't know, for that matter what Jane didn't know, was that the man Lisbon had been watching surf, and subsequently the woman the surfer had been waving to, was Layla and her partner. Another aspect that was clear to Layla, and Lisbon, and must not have been so clear to Jane, was that a man in a three-piece suit near the beach was an odd sight. Such as, a man in a three-piece suit was nearly always an odd sight, considering hardly anyone wore suits like that anymore.

Layla had known immediately who the man on the pier was; she hadn't known that the woman in the jeans staring at her partner was Tina. Her partner got a lot of female attention, just as she got a lot of male attention. And sometimes they both got male and female attention. It was normal, flattering and naturally, since they were an attractive pair, people were going to appreciate they're beauty.

When Tina had been on the pier alone, Layla hadn't been concerned or even interested, it was just some random woman appreciating the man who loved her. But as soon as Jane had appeared; Layla had immediately realized the woman was Tina. She got interested, very quickly. She had watched them talk, discuss something, and then Jane had grabbed her. His stance was rigid; whatever he was saying was intensely important to him. She had watched as Tina merely stared at his chest, refusing to meet his eyes. If she had to guess she would have said that Jane was attempting to get her to leave her husband, to run away with him, and Tina wasn't sure how to respond.

Layla guessed the only reason Tina had even entered into any kind of relationship with the man was because she had been so lonely at home while Carter was out and about in the world buying weapons and setting up deals. Besides Jane was a hottie; if Layla had been feeling bereft and under-appreciated by her man, she'd have thought about it too. It wasn't Tina's fault that Carter didn't allow her to do anything in his operation. She bet Tina would turn a profit like no man could. She'd seen the intelligence hiding behind those quick smiles, and wonderful laughs. That's was how she had been before she'd gotten involved with the love of her life. He had taught her everything she needed to know to survive in the underworld, the black market, the criminal sphere.

She didn't mind Jane, he was nice to look at and seemed joyful enough, but there was no way she was going to allow Tina to leave Carter. She knew Carter's type, if his wife left him, he'd stop working until he had either figured out why she left, punished the person and/or persons responsible and got closure. That wasn't going to happen; they didn't have the time for that. Not right now. Tina could think about leaving him later; that was if Layla couldn't convince her to start taking a more active role in the operation. She'd have to see how open she was to that possibility later, not tomorrow. Not actively tomorrow at least, maybe she could just lay the foundation for that talk.

"What color did the sky turn?" Jane asked. She was still rather close to him, and she didn't seem to remember what had happened or the way he had been behaving previously.

"Brown." She responded.

He knew she was humoring him now but dream interpretation often gave a lot of insight into the person's mental state and the problems that were bothering them.

The color pink signified love, joy, affection and overall happiness. So her dream had started out in a world that was surrounded by love and happiness. But it had turned to brown, a color that signified worldliness and practicality. Not so much a grievous turn of events, it didn't indicate that something terrible was happening in Teresa's dream world, more that whatever event had occurred in the dream was changing the relationships and manner in which she had to interact with the people and places and incidents of the dream.

"So, what does that mean?" She prodded.

"I'll need more information than that, my dear." He smiled down on her.

"That's all you're getting right-" She turned her head quickly, staring out across the beach and the many sun-bakers.

"What is it?"

She breathed in, "I just… it felt like…"

"Lisbon?" He inquired, she had pretty good instincts, it was just a matter of getting her to trust them. He opened his mind and sense to feel more than just her. It was a downside of being around her; he tended to focus solely on her, especially this past week. He'd been having trouble not noticing her, thinking about her, looking at her.

"I thought I felt someone watching me." She frowned slightly as another wave crashed.

"Do you think it's one of the wonderful people we've been spending time with?" He asked. He ran a hand over her shoulder and down her back. He liked that she seemed to have forgotten they were still partially embraced.

"Probably. It's not like Carter or someone from the team would follow me… except for you that is." She replied.

"Do you see anyone who looks familiar?"

"I've seen two people who kind of look familiar, but they're too far away for me to be sure." She looked down at the peeling paint on the railing. She picked at it, tearing tiny pieces of its flesh off; allowing her to examine the grain beneath.

Jane knew it was vital to give off a plausible reason for being together, even if nobody really was around he wasn't going to let such a superb opportunity for embarrassing her pass by. What topped it off was that he'd already, accidentally, set up the parameters for what he was about to do.

Lisbon was still examining the railing and the paint, she was thinking about the dream again, how every time she thought she understood Jane, or Carter for that matter; they, both, would do something completely unexpected. Like become a drunk, or run off to South America for two years, or spend a day at the beach in a three piece suit making a sand castle, or giving her a paper frog to apologize, or hypnotize her then take it back. She remembered that children's movie she had watched, 'ogre's have layers, like onions' he had said, then had had an argument with the donkey that it was onions not parfaits. Actually, now that she thought about it, that was a very Jane-like argument. Women were like accordions, really, she added sarcastically shaking her internal mind's head.

She had kind of forgotten Jane was still there. She'd gotten so used to his body being right next to her, allowing her to think, that when he almost roughly spun her to him, she was slightly surprised.

She made a small 'harrumph' noise when he pressed her to him. He liked it. It was somewhere between an expression of pain and one of pleasure. A noise of surprise, it came from somewhere behind her ribcage. He wondered what other noises she might make.

Before she even had time to think; Jane's lips were pressed to the corner of her mouth. He was cupping her face so that his hands were effectively blocking anyone from seeing anything too intimate. From any vantage point, Lisbon knew, it would look like he was kissing her properly.

She sort of wished he was.

She pulled back quickly; astounded. She had to remind herself that Tina would be too. Regardless of whether she was having an affair with him or merely thinking about having one, it would still be her decision to start anything. Even Tina wouldn't have appreciated Jane making the first move, not this way, not so out in the open where anybody could see.

She reeled back from him, as he expected her to; but his lips tingled to complete the pretend kiss. He'd somehow caught a glancing contact with her lip; which he had known might happen, he just hadn't expected the desire to actually kiss Lisbon to emerge. He was also frustrated that she seemed to have slipped back into the 'Tina' persona, which meant he had no idea what she was thinking. Was she simply playing the part, or was she reacting as she normally would? He was caught between hoping it was true and hoping it wasn't. And then he remembered that his whole reason for doing this was to catch her unawares, to embarrass her, and it certainly wasn't working that way. If anything he was closer to being embarrassed than she was.

She lifted a hand to her forehead, the back of her hand gliding across her temple. She swallowed, threw a disconcerted glance down to her right and hurried away from him. She didn't look back. At least, he knew, he had kept her cover intact. But at what cost?

Layla watched all this with great interest. So, Tina was having doubts. She was obviously conflicted; perhaps she needed a little helping hand, which Layla was so ever-helpfully about to offer.

"Babe, what's up?" A voice asked from in front of a blinding sun.

"Oh, just a little reconnaissance mission." She grinned back.

"Reconnaissance, hmm…" he flopped down onto the towel she had laid out for him. "Who are we scouting?"

"See that man on the pier?" She nodded in the direction of the lone man.

"Suit guy?"

"That's him." She smiled, "he's quite interested in our weapons guy's wife."

"How interested?" He responded darkly, no one was messing up this deal.

"I've got it under control. Or at least, I will. Once I set down with Tina and have a girl on girl chat."

"Is she straying?" He asked. Loyalty was an important aspect for the people he was thinking about trusting.

"It's not like that Antonio. Trust me; I know exactly why she's doing what she's doing. I'll handle it."

"Good." He leaned in and began to kiss her, but her mind was still on Tina and the choices she was going to have to make in the future. The first step though, was finding out just _how_ interested in Jane she was, and whether his continued interest was going to be a problem.

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_Dum dum dar!!!! See I told you there would be eerily suspenseful music!!!_

_Was that partially resolved chapter good for you? ;)_

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	15. After the Daze End

_Sorry about the delay in this posting. I had some trouble with the pacing. But it has worked itself out, and now the things that I expected to happen in this post are happening in the next one, oh well.

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After the Daze End.

The rest of the afternoon found Carter, Jane and Lisbon being ultimately solitary. Lisbon spent, after leaving the pier in a hurry, her day at the shopping mall. Not that she particularly enjoyed it; rather that it was time she could spend alone, thinking. She would smile brightly at the attendants; say those three magic words 'I'm just browsing' and they left her alone. She had discovered that technique many years ago. Actually, come to think of it, it had been with Violet.

She had not had much time for shopping growing up, save the necessities. Thankfully, her mother hadn't died until after that initial mother-daughter shopping trip for womanly essentials. She couldn't bear to think of what that rite might have been like without her mother to guide her. It was embarrassing enough going shopping for bras and things later on once her mother had died, she couldn't even fathom what it might have been like to do that for the first time without her… She would have been mortified trying to ask for help from one of the shop girls.

Violet had been a chronic shopper, she had dragged Lisbon from place to place. Lisbon had never enjoyed it and gained her amusement from making fun of the choices available. It turned out she had quite the knack for costumes, Violet would let her do their Halloween and fancy dress party shopping. It had been such a long time since she had gone to a fancy dress party, maybe she should go to one in the future… but who did she know who might throw one and, consequently, invite her?

Eventually, after spending at least five hours wandering the mall, she returned to one of the clothing stores; deciding that she couldn't really justify spending half a day there without buying something, other than food. She bought some new Lisbon-ish Tina clothes or Tina-ish Lisbon clothes. She wasn't quite sure which person the clothing style fell into; was it a rather sedate Tina ensemble or was it the quirkier nature of Lisbon having some time out in the light? At any rate it, she liked it, and so she bought it.

Jane stayed at the pier for some hours, replaying and pouring over his actions with Lisbon. What did they mean? Which reactions were Tina and which were Lisbon? Surely, she had felt the magnetic pull of attraction between them? For he certainly wasn't attracted to Tina and their apparent dance into adultery wasn't for any other sake than to satisfy the curiosity of Layla. For that matter, what was the dream that Lisbon had been having, he needed more information on that point.

He ruminated on Lisbon and Carter's relationship, they were close but he did not get any previously involved vibes from them. There was some commonality, further than simply pretending to be more for months on end. It was odd, there was a closeness there, a mutual understanding… a loss. They had both lost someone. _What was that odd reaction?_ He thought. He had been holding her, no, not holding her, leaning over her, against a wall, in _their _bedroom. Asking about Carter, not trusting him, willing her to not trust the man either; expecting to surprise her with his knowledge of a wife, a wife that died and what had happened then?

He tried to think back, but all he could remember was what it felt like to have his arms around Teresa, her head lying on his chest, her arms resting on his torso, the wind whipping her hair around. The smell of her; beneath him. He liked that she was shorter; his wife had been almost of equal height to him. And, wow, that realization hadn't hurt. He'd just compared another woman to his wife, for the first time since she had been murdered, and there wasn't any pain. Not with Teresa.

An image flashed; Lisbon looking up at him in pain, shock, anguish. _What had he said?_ 'Which one', that was what he had said. Which wife, he had meant. Clearly referring to Tina or Violet Carter, but her reaction was peculiar. She shouldn't have been so put out by his comparison of Tina and Violet. But she was. _Of course_, he grasped, _Lisbon had known Violet Carter._ He waited for a few minutes to allow these new ideas to permeate his thinking, his memory, his observations. This changed a few things, this explained why Lisbon was so committed to helping Carter. But not why Carter had felt the need to include Lisbon in his machinations.

Could Carter have fallen in love with Lisbon? That was easy, but was that his goal? Before, Jane had been sure that the man's purpose had been to seduce Lisbon then he had managed to convince himself that Carter was simply on a murderous revenge bent, but what if it was both? What if Carter was trying to achieve both goals? What if he was trying to avenge his wife's death and get closer to Lisbon. Jane could certainly understand the man's need to avenge his wife, if she had been murdered, Jane might even give him a helping hand, but he was not going to have Lisbon. Never! Not if Jane could do anything about it.

Carter awoke to find the house empty. He cleared away the remaining piles of rubbish and set about collating his weapons data. He would need every bit of available stock and storage facility details for the upcoming meet. Billy had informed him last night that he would be meeting with one of the big bosses tomorrow. He wanted to make sure he knew the information inside-out, backwards, forwards, sideways, up-ways, diagonally and in reverse, if need be.

He idly wondered about Teresa, how she was holding up. She hadn't had much time to prepare, but she was doing a wonderful job. Ever since Violet had died, he'd never slept so well as he did just knowing she was with him. She didn't even have to be in the same room, the same bed. One night, he hadn't made it back to the bedroom. He'd fallen asleep on the couch, spread out on the cushions, with ammunition qualifications lying on the coffee table, he would never have been so careless before. But knowing Lisbon was in the house, in the bedroom or the backyard or the garage, it wouldn't have mattered. Simply knowing she was around, was enough. He had slept straight through til morning. 'Tina' had teased him about loving his paperwork more than her, but he had seen the affectionate twinkle to Lisbon's eye. She knew how little he slept. He had called her often enough at two, three and four o-clock in the morning, when he was in America and off-assignment, for her to realize that he didn't sleep well. She never complained, welcomed his intrusions almost. After his wife's funeral, seeing her across the grave, tears that she refused to let fall, he had rushed to meet her.

He refused to leave her side at the wake, holding her arm for dear life, painfully accepting solace from family members he either didn't like or had never met. He simply wanted to be alone with his memories and his pain. The following alcohol infused months had been a numb hell. Lisbon was the only one who could reach him, his mother and father almost gave up in their efforts, the pain of seeing their son wallow and disintegrate in the haze of anesthetized stupor was horrifying. They didn't know how to deal with this uncaring manifestation of their beloved son. Lisbon had; at least, she had seemed to hope he would one day escape from the seductive lure of the alcoholic bliss.

He wouldn't of; Carter knew, if it wasn't for Lisbon; if she hadn't of taken the time out of her busy schedule, or her nights, or her days, if she hadn't put up the fees to get him out of lock up, he wouldn't have made it. Thankfully, he always had the sense of mind to give fake names but to call her for assistance. She was never holier-than-thou when she came to collect him. She merely paid the incarceration fees, and sobered him up as best she could, until he left her house again. Eventually, his mind came back to him, the pain couldn't be suppressed, and he channeled it into a new avenue. Catching the bastards who killed his wife. He sobered up quickly then, paid Lisbon back, and kept in sporadic touch with her, whenever he was in the country he would call, go visit for a lunch or dinner when he was in the area. And Christmases, and birthdays – hers and Violets, he sent her gifts; just little reminders that he was still alive, still grateful to her, still in love with Violet, still surviving.

It was late in the evening when Tina finally returned home, she had been expecting only Carter, but she found Billy and Layla too. She grinned happily while Lisbon stifled a groan.

"Hey babe." Layla began, "I'm going to take you out tonight, let the boys get ready for their important meeting tomorrow." She grinned, standing quickly and dragging Tina out of the room and toward the back bedroom.

Tina half-heartedly waved a hello/goodbye to her husband, he merely grinned amusedly. They both knew better than to disagree with a determined Layla.

"I'm not really up for going out tonight Layla." She replied, once they were in the comfort of her bedroom. Layla immediately began going through her closet. She certainly wasn't going to allow Tina out into the night air with merely a pair of old jeans and that comfortable, lazing-about looking shirt. They had a reputation to uphold.

"Don't worry. We're not going _out_ out. Just out. To dinner; some food and a little, quiet relaxation. Time to talk, you know. Girl to girl."

"Just dinner?" Tina asked, slightly excited. She'd been cooped up in the house for the past week, party upon party. She'd only been out to the park and the pier. She desperately wanted to experience something, somewhere new. Lisbon thought a quiet dinner sounded wonderful, she'd only have to be on guard a little bit. Layla would do most of the talking.

"Just dinner. Come on now, you can't go out in those clothes, put these on." She flung a knee-length tight skirt and a beautiful long-sleeved sweater at Tina. They were sedate, but elegant, showing off her curves, her figure, but keeping all ideas of flesh-exposing behind luscious fabric. Lisbon loved the choice immediately. Tina not so much, but she acquiesced to Layla's demand.

"Are you wearing that?" Tina asked. It looked like Layla had come straight from the beach or pool. She was wearing a shift dress and sandals. They looked entirely odd standing next to each other in front of the large mirror that adorned one wall.

"Of course not." Layla smiled, "We'll stop off at my place first. Bring your make-up bag too."

Tina did as requested but while following the woman outside, she asked, "Will I get to meet your infamous and mysterious partner?"

"You might, if he's home." Layla replied with a sneaky grin.

Carter watched his wife and her newest best friend leave the house, Tina was dressed up, not for a night on the town, but still very deliciously. He knew she would be alright, her _other_ friends would look out for her, if not listen in.

Billy drew his attention back to the lists and plans laid out before him, pointing to the top most sheets, "This is what he wants. All of this or at least, the beginnings of negotiations to acquire these products."

Carter reflected that this new Billy was different to the one he had previously known. Back then, Billy would have been referring to the guns as guns, not products, the ammunition and cartridges as ammo and blocks or wedges. He used to make up his own names for things, once calling some explosives – plo's. That had been an odd day. Just another piece of the puzzle that furthered his concern, as every new day passed Carter became more and more aware that whoever was running this organization had some serious business acumen. These were not men to be trifled with, and he definitely needed to be keeping a stronger eye on Lisbon, there was no need for her to get any more involved with this than he had already put her in. He had simply wanted her here for reassurance and as another method of infiltrating the 'gang'. He had never wanted her to be sucked into this kind of organized crime unit; he had never wanted her to be in the position to possibly become _actually _involved in the weapons business.

The Columbian mob had been easy, they hadn't wanted their women involved, women were to be the distractions and the home-makers, this gang had other ideas. Every member had to play a part in the operation. He didn't want that for Teresa. They were going to have to talk, and soon. Perhaps he could make her go visit an old aunt or something after this meeting he was scheduled to have tomorrow. Yes, that's what he would do; this was turning out to be involving her more than he had ever wanted, more than he had expected it to.

***

Lisbon was a little amazed when they pulled up on the street outside Layla's house. It wasn't a house; it wasn't even really an apartment. It was a loft; above a restaurant.

A highly expensive, stylish and completely upper crust restaurant; she felt inferior simply walking past the window. She didn't usually feel like that, she usually just maintained her Agent Lisbon persona but this was different. This wasn't Agent Lisbon walking into the establishment to inquire and gather case-related information. This was Teresa, or more specifically Tina, going past what was clearly a superior, money-wise and other, gathering place for the rich and probably famous.

Layla was unaffected; she led the way past the building and around the side to a gated walkway between the restaurant and the neighboring business, which happened to be neonatal clinic. Lisbon noted that was odd, but really, people tended to put their businesses wherever they could these days, and at least, the clinic wasn't open at nights and the restaurant was al carte during the day. At least, that's what she understood from the six-second glance she'd managed at the advertisements.

The gate swung open as if it had some motion sensor aimed at the street. She couldn't see anyone or anything monitoring the gateway, and she knew it couldn't be automatic; that would just be ineffectual, it would be going off at all times during the night and day. The gate opened into a small laneway, big enough only for two smallish people to walk side by side. Lisbon followed Layla down the low lit lane, they came to the back of the building and suddenly everything was open and quiet. Lights shone from the upstairs balcony, two dark-clad figures moved slightly, letting them know they were being watched. Lisbon tensed, she wasn't worried about what that might be construed as; Tina would probably have tense too. After all, it wasn't every day you went to a friend's place and there were sinister guards hiding in the shadows… with M16's.

Lisbon swallowed, oops. She hoped someone from the team was tailing her. She hadn't really had a chance to look in the side view mirror and she really didn't want to draw attention to looking behind her by commandeering the rear view mirror, Layla might need that for actual driving.

Layla giggled when she saw Tina tense at Frank and Ash, hadn't she recognized them?

"It's the Blues Brothers, Tina. Nothing to freak out about." She grinned.

"Frank and Ash?" Tina immediately responded.

"You know some other brothers?"

"I just, I didn't recognize them. They're so… scary." Lisbon had a hard time admitting that, she wasn't used to being weak. But Tina required it.

"Yeah, but you're one of us, you know. It's all fine." Layla responded. She opened up a smaller gate that was at the bottom of the stair case. It swung quietly, it was obviously new. The padded up the wooden stairs, Lisbon turned midway to watch Frank and Ash, they had stopped watching her and were patrolling the perimeter again. She reminded herself that Tina would be slightly used to this behavior, after all the Columbian mob had had guards too, only they had been more inclined to use daggers and nine inch knives to protect their borders than M16's.

Layla left Tina to her own devices; she wandered further into the house to get changed. She had decided she was only going to take Tina downstairs, she'd seen the looks Tina had been giving the restaurant. She obviously felt out of place, unworthy to go in. Layla was going to change all that; besides Tina needed to recognize that now she was superior to most other people, she deserved to eat in that restaurant, to be accepted there. They were important.

While Layla got changed, Lisbon was quietly cataloguing the living room. It was soft, and plush. The colors were comfortable, she didn't think it looked like Layla's taste though. So perhaps it was her partner? She was leafing through one of the magazines on the coffee table when she heard another door open. At first she thought it was just Layla returning but when she didn't hear footsteps she tensed. Looking behind her she was shocked to see a man towering over her, standing directly behind where she was sitting.

"Oh!" She exclaimed in surprise. "Don't…do that, who are-?"

She didn't get a chance to finish her less than stellar exclamations before the strange man introduced himself.

"You must Tina. Layla said she might be dropping by with you tonight. I'm Antonio." His voice was warm and honeyed.

Lisbon swallowed nervously, "You startled me." She grinned sheepishly.

"I apologize."

"That's okay."

"Darling, there you are." Layla remarked as she finally returned from her clothing change jaunt.

"Going to dinner?" He asked. They seemed infinitely concerned only with one another. They greeted each other with a languorous kiss; Lisbon quickly turned her head away. That was a bit awkward. She never did get a handle on watching other people kiss, especially like that. But then she wasn't exactly into PDA's either. The most she had ever done in public with a boyfriend was the quick goodbye peck and possibly the close-body walk down the street. It was just too open for her liking. She preferred to be restrained, she often surprised the men she dated, once they got home her reserved nature disappeared.

"I've saved our favorite table for you downstairs." Antonio said.

"We're having dinner downstairs?" Lisbon asked, before she could stop herself.

"You need to start living like you deserve to, Tina." Layla responded.

Antonio smiled at Tina's guppy-face. Obviously, Layla had decided that she liked Tina, and was going to do everything in her power to make her a competent and powerful player in their organization. She just needed to sort out this questionable 'loyalty' problem. But, he trusted Layla's judgment, if she said she knew what was happening with Tina and this man 'Jane' then he was willing to give her a little latitude. He did not tolerate disloyalty, but he had known some incredibly loyal men who had been iffy in their relationships, and that had had no bearing on their conduct in his schemes. Perhaps this was another one of those types of incidents. At any rate, he had still to meet with Carter, and perhaps then he would understand Tina's dalliance with this other man. Who knows, perhaps they had an open relationship and just hadn't bothered to tell anyone yet.

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_The plot thickens, again ;)_

_I hope you are all enjoying my fic, and at the very least finding it interesting!_

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	16. Exposing Dinner

_Okay, so this was supposed to be the chapter that got overrun by the characters before. Damn Characters doing whatever they want. I hope you don't mind but this is going to be a recurring theme of my little pre-chapter rants. It's unavoidable..._

_Oh and I promise, I don't hate Canada... I know some great people from there, Oh and I also realize South America is not a drug-den or gun crazy cartel running continent. Every country has illegality issues, I'm not out to offend anyone so please don't take this fic the wrong way. Not that anyone has complained or anything, I thought I'd just better state that in case..._

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Exposing Dinner

They were at practically the best table in the restaurant and the sedate clothing they were wearing was actually rather appropriate. Lisbon was surprised to find that they seemed to fit in perfectly. Layla was completely relaxed; she knew the waiters and waitresses by name, she even knew details of their personal lives, the mark of a good customer or better yet, a boss. That's what was so odd about the restaurant, every employee deferred to Layla as if she was in charge of them. Perhaps she was…

From their table Lisbon could see the street; it was bathed in fluorescent light the asphalt was eerily black. She wondered if anyone from her team was surveilling her at this moment. She wasn't sure if she had made provision for a gang member taking her out to dinner…

Cho had made the decision to follow Lisbon and Layla. Jane hadn't returned from wherever he went that morning. The team, Rigsby, Van Pelt and himself, had had an interesting midday. Firstly, Jane had never left the premises after the party had disintegrated the night before. That caused much speculation from Rigsby and Van Pelt, eventually as the morning rose and the three house inhabitants hadn't made any moves, the three had concluded they must be catching up on sleep.

Then there was movement in the house.

At first, they had been convinced it was Jane, hypothesizing that Lisbon and Carter weren't aware that he had remained in the house; they had probably assumed he had left of his own accord. Soon though they realized the stealthy movements weren't like Jane at all, for a few seconds they had been alarmed that another intruder had entered the house while they remained unaware. But when the garage door was opened and a slight figure fiddled with the car, and the gate, they realized it was Lisbon. Van Pelt had laughed, saying she understood the mentality. Rigsby hadn't understood, so she had explained her theories. That Carter and Jane were having some sort of possessive battle with each other over Lisbon, and that Lisbon had finally realized it and was taking a day off, away from them.

Cho had noticed the undercurrents of the trio. He hadn't been privy to any direct conversations involving any of them, but he was a careful and deliberate watcher. He did not have Jane's observational Mentalist skills, what he did have was a methodically thought out and monitored understanding of the people he worked with. He knew that there was much more to Lisbon and Jane's friendship than either one of them let on; even to each other, or to themselves. There had been some serious misgivings when Jane had first been assigned to their team. Lisbon had been furious with Minelli, she hadn't wanted a hack psychic muddying the waters of an already precarious job. And that had been before she knew of Jane's penchant for meddling with peoples' lives, their secrets and their truths.

Jane had walked through the office door and tried to wow them with his psychic knowledge. He'd noted that Rigsby was currently remembering his dinner from last night, that Cho was lamenting to ending of his most recent book, and that Lisbon's phone call with her brother hadn't gone well. Lisbon had been impressed if a little put out by the ease he had infiltrated her life. She allowed it, allowed him to follow them but she outlined some seriously tight rules for him to abide by if he wished to stay within her team. He obliged, for all of three seconds, his first mistake was entering her office without her permission. And since that day she'd never been able to get him to stay out, or even knock first. Most of the time she was seriously angry with him from his infractions and disregarding nature concerning law enforcement procedures, but he got the job done. He was helpful, and she seemed to have designated him to annoying little brother status, the one whose faults and mistakes were blamed on you since you were the older sibling and therefore in charge of keeping him in line. Cho was sure Minelli must have felt like the habitual parent those first few months, he probably still did. At least in the beginning Lisbon and Jane's relationship had been of siblings.

Sometime before Van Pelt came on board, their relationship had been changing, slowly but surely. The team and Lisbon especially, began to trust him to some degree. They allowed him the space and latitude to run off and try his hand at whatever new scheme he needed to; within reason of course, Lisbon was always ultimately responsible for whatever messes Jane managed to get himself into. But over the past year, which Cho was sure Van Pelt could attest to; there had been major differences in Jane and Lisbon's interactions. Firstly, she could actually accept a compliment from him now without blushing, well, mostly anyway. He'd been surprised, and reminded, when Jane had informed her that the emeralds he'd bought her brought out the color in her eyes and she'd merely thanked him. If he had tried something like that in the first few months of working with Lisbon she wouldn't have been able to speak for a few minutes, let alone not blush and manage a confident, sincere 'thank you'.

There were other things too, the quiet moments they shared in her office, the obvious deeper understanding Lisbon had of Jane's pain, his reasons and his motivations regarding Red John. Jane had come to a new appreciation for her too; Cho was of the opinion that he wouldn't be nearly so accommodating to the team and their ways if it weren't for Lisbon. She had managed to worm her way into his affections, without either of them realizing it, she could tease him too. They'd progressed from a forced working relationship, into an uneasy friendship, somewhere that had evolved into an actual friendship and then their latent attraction to one another kept popping up. He hadn't been surprised when Van Pelt had started to tease Jane about the 'relationship' between Carter and Lisbon. What he had been surprised about was the magnitude of Jane's response. Cho hadn't realized just how far Jane had fallen.

So now, here he was, sitting in a parked car across from one of the fancier restaurants in town, watching his boss eat dinner with a member of the mob. He'd called Van Pelt laying out the information of the restaurant and the house above it; hopefully she would have more luck getting information from the deeds than they'd had trying to track down the cars' license plates. All of those had been tracked back to fake individuals who worked for dummy corporations who were shells for other unrelated corporations and they still hadn't managed to back trace those yet.

Lisbon was finally starting to relax Cho noted, Layla was laughing about something she had just said. It was always weird to watch people laugh without being able to hear them. It always made the person look absurd, as if they were throwing their head back to swallow a massive fish as birds do. Gulping them down in one snap and wobbling their necks to ease the live fish into their waiting bellies. Cho realized it was an odd image to associate with such a beautiful woman, and with such a common occurrence, but he had just been reading a hunting novel whose protagonist had an unnatural affinity with the wild. Everything he read eventually bled into his thinking, sometimes even into his natural cadence or vocabulary. He was still embarrassed about the time he started speaking in vocabulary from Eighteenth Century England. He was never going to read period pieces at work again.

Layla was waiting for the perfect time to jump into her Tina attack. She wanted Tina to be on the right side of relaxed, not too relaxed…she didn't want the woman to not answer her, but she also didn't want her to unload all the angst. She was walking a fine line between open and bare. She didn't want to learn anybody's deep and darkest, but she did want the juicy and compelling aspects of the burgeoning relationship.

"So… about the other day…" she began.

Tina frowned, trying to think about what she could mean. _She wasn't going to do this now? Was she?_

"With Jane, in your bedroom." Layla continued. Deciding she might as well bite the bullet and just tell the woman she knew everything.

"Oh." _Damn._

"Yes. Oh." She laughed.

Tina didn't continue.

Layla shook her head, "Look, Tina. I'm not judging; there's no judgment here. I just… if anyone else found out, it would look bad for Carter. The boss, he's not… He doesn't react well to disloyalty, okay? I'm looking out for you here, but you need to let me in, maybe I can help. Or run interference or something."

She was laying on the friendship a bit thick, Lisbon thought. _You just want all the gory details_. Lisbon didn't respond; she wasn't sure where to start, or even what Layla had overheard, thought she might have heard, thought she knew or even what she did actually know. And that would mean Lisbon would need to tailor her responses to the things Layla had already decided had happened.

"Also," Layla said, "I was at the beach today, you know, the one with that gorgeous pier?" She was smirking.

_Great!_ Lisbon looked down, that made everything ten times more complicated. Now she'd seen them 'kiss', she couldn't just brush it off as a one-sided thing, Lisbon knew it had certainly looked like she was wavering between the two men, well Tina, not Teresa. _Damn, this was going to get confusing_.

She leaned back in her chair, sliding down it a little. She picked up her fork at started flicking at the smoked salmon. She pursed her lips, trying to figure out what to say, where to start; both for Tina's reasons and her own.

"Tina." Layla started again, "I get that you've been lonely for a long time, and that Carter hasn't exactly been doing you any favors. I can certainly understand the attraction to Jane. He's certainly attractive."

Tina's eyes flicked up to hers at that point.

"Not that I'm looking to encroach on your territory or anything." She added with a mischievous grin.

Just when it looked like Tina was going to say something, Layla broke in again, "Tell me what's going on and I know I can help. You can trust me, I won't tell anyone."

Lisbon realized that that wasn't true, if she was going out with Antonio, who she was pretty sure was The Antonio Bloch who Jane had warned her about then she was in very dangerous waters. She was befriending the 'wife' of the leader of one of the biggest criminal factions of South America. This also meant that what Jane had said about Carter held merit too, whether or not she believed Carter was out for revenge. But for right now, she needed to do as Tina would do, and Tina would want to divulge everything that had been happening to a female friend, someone who would understand her dilemma, her loneliness and the needs that were being met by 'Jane'.

"I… I didn't mean to do anything, I mean. I didn't mean to start anything. And nothing's really been started…" Tina began, stumbling over the way to express herself. She had Layla's complete attention which was useful. She'd just recognized Cho in the car across the street. Well, she'd known it was someone from her team in the car. But she'd only just then come to the realization that it was Cho. He had a certain motionless on stake outs. Rigsby shuffled and ate and sighed and fiddled with the radio. Van Pelt fiddled with the radio too, but she was always still on stakeouts. She rarely took Jane on stakeouts; he would distract the team by telling them personal details of all the passerby's, you couldn't afford to be distracted on a stakeout. Lisbon was ultimately glad Cho had come alone.

"Look, I could tell from the confrontation on the pier. It wasn't your idea that he follow you…"

_Why was Layla making it so easy for her to opt out of any responsibility for this?_ She tried to think of a few reason but every one always came back with a bad result for herself, Carter and most likely Jane.

"He surprised me today. But you're right. When Billy got arrested, and then everyone else just disappeared; it was like I lost my whole family in a plane crash or something. Carter wouldn't even let me go see anyone in prison, or even call Petra, my old best friend. They just vanished and I wasn't even allowed to look for them!" Lisbon suddenly had a flash of inspiration, well she hoped it wouldn't backfire but she couldn't do anything about it now, it was possibly the only way she had to get out of the mess Jane had created for her.

Layla nodded comfortingly, and Lisbon had the strange urge to slap her – it was so condescending. So unlike Layla, if it had been Noel she would have accepted it, Noel always cared about the particulars of the conversation. Layla only cared when it pertained to her happiness, her needs. Lisbon was under no illusions, Layla wanted something from her, she just had to figure out what and either avoid it or use it to her advantage. She'd had plenty of practice with Petra. That woman had had the self-preservationary act down-pat.

"Then we moved again. Carter said we needed to get out of the focal point or something. I was so naïve back then." Lisbon sighed, dramatically. She'd learned quite a few things about showmanship from Jane.

_Naïve?_ Layla thought, _just how much was Tina hiding from everyone?_

"We moved to Canada! Canada! It wasn't all bad I suppose. But I wanted to be with my friends, and it took me forever to find people who thought like me, liked me, that I liked, you know?"

Layla nodded comfortingly again.

"Just when I was finally getting settled and getting used to the snow, he moved us back down here, about a year ago. Well, moved me back here, he'd been gallivanting off and doing whatever he wanted for ages by then." Just in time she remembered to add that just in case someone had done their research on Carter and known he was well-traveled. "I was so alone."

She stopped to take a sip from her red wine. Her eyes flicked to Cho, he seemed to be watching them intently. As was his duty of course, but if he didn't do something else soon the Blues Brothers were going to figure out they were being scouted.

"I met Grace and she was so happy and so sweet, it was just nice to have a friend again. Even if she didn't know anything about what kind of work my husband did." She locked eyes with Layla then.

Layla stifled a gasp, she'd known Tina had the potential to go far in the organization but she hadn't realized that the woman might already know about Carter's gun deals. And if she did then she was more aware than she had first thought. But she decided to wait and see what she would say first, she didn't want to give anyone's secrets away before the time was right.

"She introduced us to Jane. He was entertaining."

"When did that change?" Layla finally asked, she'd been wanting to know these details since she'd found them embracing in the master bedroom yesterday.

"I'm not sure. Jane's always been flirty. It's his way."

Layla nodded, some people were just like that, you didn't take it personally or put any stock in their flirtations.

"But then he stopped…" Something caught in Lisbon's mind, "he didn't flirt so much around me, with other women. I mean… it's like he was respecting me or something."

Layla noticed she seemed confused. As if she had just realized something about the behavior that had caused them to get to this point. Layla smiled, "He toned down his flirtations with other women when you were around?"

"Yeah, why hadn't I noticed that before now?" Lisbon asked. And it was Lisbon asking too, not Tina.

"Too caught up in the moment, probably. Please continue."

"I… He… Nothing happened. Truly. But we started spending time together, just the two of us. There wasn't anything wrong with that, or at least I didn't notice anything. Not until the night he tried to kiss me."

"How long had he been wanting to do that?" Layla asked.

"I don't know." Tina replied, stubbornly.

Layla was not going to accept that. Women nearly always knew. Especially when using hindsight. You might be oblivious while everything was happening but once it was all over the signs were clear. "You know, Tina."

"I'm not entirely sure, okay? I wasn't expecting it. I love Carter." Lisbon did love Carter, he was her last link to Violet. Her family didn't talk to her anymore, not that she tried too hard, she had been too caught up in helping Carter in those first few months after her death.

"But you're attracted to Jane…" Layla said; waiting for her to nod in confirmation.

Lisbon froze.

"It's okay to be attracted to other people." Layla added, "but have you done anything about it?"

"NO." She responded emphatically. But was that Lisbon or Tina?

"Well, you were definitely kissing on the pier."

"He surprised me!" She defended, which was true, he had.

"And I saw you push away from him. But what about that conversation you were having in the bedroom?"

Tina crinkled her forehead at Layla; she wasn't going to say anything until she told her what she had overheard. Layla was glad that Tina was so suspicious; it made the work she wanted her to do so much more easy.

"He said you had to choose. Him or Carter." Layla added. That was the crux of the matter at least. Jane was pushing Tina to choose him, but that couldn't be allowed to happen, they'd have to get rid of Jane's body before Carter knew anything untoward had happened. And then there'd be the messy business of forcing Tina to stay with Carter. It would, all round, be much better if Tina chose Carter of her own volition.

"I've been married to Carter for a long time Layla. I'm not going to leave him because some new guy has a crush on me." Tina stated definitively.

"But you have to admit, it's pretty tempting." Layla smirked.

"A little tempting, maybe." Tina responded with a knowing smile.

"But nothing's happened right?"

"He's tried a few times, but I don't… I've been so alone. Carter's been off with the-" She caught herself before she said anymore. Tina wouldn't know if Layla knew about the guns or not.

This was an interesting development, and Layla knew she would need to leave the juicy Jane bits if she was going to get more information out of Tina.

"No, go on." She leaned over the table, ever the picture of delighted interest.

Tina drew in a breath, and her eyes slid across the table, checking out the restaurant. "A few years ago, while we were in Canada… I stumbled across how Carter makes his money. I was a little shocked. But…" She smiled.

"Go on." Layla urged, she could almost feel the revelation coming.

"He sells weapons." Tina whispered, excitement pouring off her.

"And you don't mind?" Layla asked, incredulous that Tina wasn't more upset.

"Come on, Layla. Our old friends were the Columbian mob!" She was still whispering, they were after all in an up-market restaurant.

Layla's eyebrow rose, she hadn't known Tina was aware of Billy's mob mentality.

"I know, everyone thinks I'm the party girl; that I don't listen to what people are talking about. But geez, all of our friends disappear overnight, and practically the next day the newspapers are full of Columbian mob raids. I'm not an idiot."

Layla smirked; she knew she'd seen something in Tina.

"When we were in Canada, I started learning about the weapons, the guns… Carter doesn't know. He wasn't much interested in me back then, when we didn't have a family, friends. When things are bad he just closes off from me."

Layla nodded, she understood that. Antonio was similar, when she'd taken a vested interested in their work, he began to spend more time with her. She could similarities between herself and Tina.

"Come on. I should probably get you back home, you've got a big day tomorrow."

"What?" Tina was surprised.

"I'm going to make Carter and Billy take you with them. To their meeting with the big boss." Layla said.

"Why?" Tina's eyes opened slightly with fear. That wasn't in the plan, this was bad… in her attempt to protect Jane, and make Tina slightly more intelligent, she'd put herself in a very bad position.

"Well, I'll be there and you can explain all the gun lingo."

"Why will you be there?" Tina asked, Lisbon was furious with herself, this just kept getting worse.

"Antonio likes it."

"Antonio's going to be there?"

"Well, he should be. He is the boss." Lisbon tried not to react. Tina tensed for a minute and then relaxed, Tina wouldn't care that much if Antonio was the boss, she'd been best friends with the last mob's boss' wife. Why would this time be any different?

She cursed her talent for falling into these situations in undercover operations. This was another reason why she didn't like doing them. She always ended up near the top of the organization whether she meant to or not. It was like some perverse gift she'd been given. The same went for getting given broken men who viewed her as some sort of savior or gate-keeper for their sanity.

* * *

_Oh gosh that's longer than I expected._

_Wow, women can talk can't they?_

_Poor Cho, still stuck out there in the care by his lonesome. I'm sure he's fine though._

_Please review, you've all been great so far._

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	17. Late Night Discussions

_This chapter took a while to get out...I fiddled with the timelines until I realized the characters didn't really want me to go backwards._

_I was going to do a Rigsby and Van Pelt recap, because I don't know if anyone else has noticed but they've been absent for a couple of chapters. But they didn't want to make an appearance either. Hopefully they'll come back soon...I'm not purposefully ignoring them, they just happen to have taken a slight holiday. They're probably making out in the surveillance room again, 'cause Rigsby's been hypnotized again, poor man, will he never escape that?

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Late Night Discussions.

Lisbon came home late. Not 'I've been clubbing' late, just regular late and Carter was concerned. They had a lot to talk about and not much time to do it. They couldn't talk in the house, too many bugs; they couldn't leave the house, too much to prepare for the following day's meeting, they couldn't talk in their small make-shift version of code; the details were to specific and complicated. They could 'talk' of a certain nature in their bedroom but it was hard to have a proper conversation, especially since he knew Lisbon would disagree with his assessment that she needed to get out of California until the end of the undercover operation. She was not going to be pleased; she'd want to go back to work for the CBI and Carter couldn't allow that. The attempt at 'talking' in the bedroom was going to have to do though, there wasn't any time. He also needed to figure out a plausible reason for Tina to rush home to Indiana or something, preferably by morning.

He followed her around the house, asking niceties. She humored him, obviously aware he wished to talk, but he could see it in her mannerisms, something important had happened; probably several important somethings. He'd had all day to ruminate on the weirdness that had been emanating from Lisbon recently; mostly weirdness due to her associate Jane.

He'd left the man in their living room, thinking he would let himself out, expecting him to; mi casa su casa and all that. When he had awoken that morning, Lisbon was gone, no note. Jane was resting on the couch. He wasn't asleep, but he wasn't moving about the house either. Carter was slightly surprised the 'consultant' was still in their house, but he didn't say anything, he merely raised an inquisitory eyebrow at the man. He was met with a raised eyebrow in return. If possible that lone brow seemed to smirk as well. He realized he would find Patrick Jane amusing if they had met under any other circumstance.

They ate a silent breakfast. Then Jane left, citing the theory that the beach might be pretty at this hour of the day. Carter just watched the strange man leave his house. He shook his head… whatever did Lisbon see in that man? It was obvious they respected each other and that he must have some use, Lisbon did not suffer fools. Perhaps this Jane was Lisbon's Fool.

It was several hours before anyone else arrived. Billy with some more product lists, and tomorrow's meeting place. Layla had been the one to relay that information, apparently she was going to be their guide, considering Billy had never met the Boss either. About an hour later Lisbon returned from her day out. He was slightly concerned but knew it wasn't the place, or time or even the appropriate company to voice those thoughts. Then Layla had commandeered Lisbon, taking her out to dinner, he spent the next hour trying to get rid of Billy. Finally, when there was some peace and quiet he had started organizing Tina's holiday, although he didn't have much time to set anything up to his usual standards. He would have to get one of his contacts to ring and pretend to be an ailing aunt. When did this get so complicated? It was supposed to be a tiny little thing factoring Lisbon into his machinations. She wasn't supposed to get so involved, he could see the predatory glint in Layla; she was obviously planning something. Jane was causing wrinkles too, there was definitely some tension happening between him and Lisbon. He knew Lisbon was a professional so nothing untoward should occur. But he also knew to never underestimate people. He'd been surprised enough times during operations to always have backup plans. He had a feeling Jane was going to cause a lot of problems within the next few days.

They finally retreated to their bedroom, Lisbon was nervous, how in the hell of this world was she ever going to explain all of the changes that had occurred today?

Carter closed the door, checking the room for any new bugs. You could never be too careful. Lisbon took the opportunity to get changed.

He was just finishing up as she spat the remaining toothpaste into the sink, and returned her toothbrush to its holder. Carter joined her in the en suite. Being in a smaller enclosed room aided the chances of not being heard.

"I want you go visit your aunt tomorrow morning." Carter began. Well aware that Tina didn't have any aunts to speak of.

"I can't." Lisbon replied.

"This isn't a discussion T. You need to go." He was stern. She wasn't staying, no matter how much she thought it was the right choice. She wasn't going to be getting any more involved than she already was. Layla was circling, he didn't want there to be any chance of Lisbon or Jane adding more blood to the water. He wanted Lisbon safe. Violet would never forgive him if Teresa got hurt because of him.

"No. Carter, I can't leave. It's too late for that." Lisbon expanded.

He stared at her intently. Cocking his head to the side, he waited. He was a patient man.

"Yesterday," She paused, was it really only yesterday? "Yesterday, Jane found out some stuff about you, about… before. He came to me and told me, thinking that, rightly, I needed to know these things that you were keeping from me, the team. Only, I knew them already. He got angry."

"What did he do?" Carter was instantly tense; he'd seen the underlying rage and possessiveness lurking beneath Jane's calm and unaffected exterior. He often did that himself.

"Nothing, well. Nothing to me. He got a little out of hand in his speaking. Not his actions."

"What do you mean?"

"We were talking about trust, who I could and couldn't trust."

Now Carter understood; all those funny glances they'd been giving each other yesterday morning. The coffee ploy, meant to show him that Jane knew Lisbon better, could satisfy her needs in all the ways Carter couldn't. Those little possessive touches.

"Layla overheard our conversation. So she 'accidentally' walked in on us."

Carter grimaced; he knew exactly how 'accidental' Layla could be.

"What happened?"

"We had thought we heard something but weren't sure, and when she opened the door and surprised us; we jumped away from each other."

"Like you were doing something untoward." He smirked, impressed with their quick thinking. Even if it did make things more complicated, but it was better to make events seem tawdry rather than suspicious.

"Yeah. She didn't say anything, just kept looking at me knowingly."

"She would have loved to be in the know. To have something to hold over you like that." Lisbon nodded; they were both aware of Layla's character.

"It was fine, it seemed like she wasn't going to do anything about it. About whatever she thought it was."

"Was it something?" Carter asked; he'd known Lisbon had had some reservations in the beginning of their first assignment. He had been upfront with her; about his marriage. He told his wife as much about his work as he could, he was more honest with Violet than he was with anyone. When he had to flirt with women to get the job done, he told her. She accepted the more blurry aspects of his job with sereneness and tranquility. He'd told Violet about his 'wife', that his new assignment required him to be married. He had promised profusely that nothing was going to happen with the woman who would portray his wife, but that since they were going to be playing a married couple that it was going to be necessary to have some lip contact.

Violet had made him promise to inform this new 'wife' that he was married; to lay down the law so to speak. What had surprised Carter was how, almost instantly, this laying down of the law to Lisbon had caused her to relax. She immediately trusted him; there was no awkward stage where you were trying to get used to an unknown person invading your personal space. It made everything easy. Lisbon took great comfort from the fact that Carter was married. She followed his lead.

But this time, there was something else going on. The last time they had been happily married, this time she had obviously wanted to have marital problems, so that she'd have an easy out. Carter wholeheartedly approved, he had never wanted to her to get too close to the mob bosses this time. Especially as Lisbon was a more confident woman this time around, she'd take more of the responsibility of making sure everyone was safe and that the majority of people were arrested and held responsible. He didn't want her getting hurt and he most definitely didn't want her getting in the ways of his plans.

But Jane, he was a problem. There was obviously an undercurrent of something going on between Lisbon and Jane. There was nothing overt, and expected as much from someone as trained as Lisbon, and well he knew small bits of information about Jane. He was aware that Jane was a great observationalist; that he had worked on television, could read peoples' behavior. Jane wanted to be in control, and if he couldn't be in control he was the kind of man who would manipulate people into doing what he wanted, or at the very least what he expected them to do. Carter could relate, he had similar tendencies, although he leaned more to forcing and intimidating than coercing or manipulating. However those tactics had rarely worked on Lisbon, he had tried. During his drunken months and the years following, she had never once given up on him, no matter how many times he had forced her away from him, yelled at her, at sometimes to his everlasting shame struck out at her physically, thankfully never connecting with her.

Lisbon frowned at him, "No." She responded indignantly.

"There does seem to be something going on between you two." Carter replied.

"You're imagining things. He's married." She answered; dismissing his concerns.

"He's not married anymore T."

"He's not married like you're not." She said softly.

That made him stop, he hadn't thought about it that way. He never did find out exactly why Jane's wife was dead, only that she was…actually he vaguely remembered some hype over it. There had been a lot of public debate over what had happened, but he'd only caught the tail end of it, he'd just been getting back into the country after a stint in Russia. He'd been more interested in the high temperatures and not having to wear mittens than anything else; that and seeing Lisbon, feeling her warmth, her smile that reminded him of Violet's love.

"He's possessive." Carter stated, deciding it would be better to move away from the subject, Lisbon was obviously not in the right frame of mind to discuss Jane in this manner.

"So are you." She replied with a slight smile.

"I have reason to be, he doesn't." He touched her face gently. They were still in the bathroom he suddenly remembered. She put the lid down on the toilet and sat down; Carter sat on the edge of the bath.

Lisbon sighed. "He doesn't trust you."

"I don't need him to."

"There's more. Not Jane related."

Carter groaned; he could deal with the new development that his 'faithful' wife might be falling under Jane's charms. He could deal with the idea that Layla knew and wasn't trying to stop it, that Jane was portraying himself as a lothario. They would just have to tweak their interactions a little; they had already established with their previous public party fight that there were problems in their relationship. Mostly pertaining to his leaving her alone for frequent periods of time and the fact that all of their friends seemingly abandoned them; but now there was something else too? He shook his head slightly, it could only happen to Lisbon. Actually he thought, this was probably all Jane's fault.

"Jane caused this didn't he?"

"Sort of." She cringed, as if she was talking about a naughty puppy.

"Layla took me out to dinner to talk about Jane."

"Great."

"So, I had to… give plausible reasons for why I would be considering cheating on you."

"So, you haven't?" He injected his question with a playful innocence.

She half-smiled at him, exasperatedly.

"She just thinks Jane and I have kissed." Lisbon responded.

"Have you?" He was surprised to realize that he actually wanted to know.

"N-no."

"You stuttered!" He exclaimed triumphantly.

"I did not."

"You totally, completely stumbled over your answer!"

"I didn't."

"N-no?" He repeated.

She scowled. She stood up rather suddenly, "He found me, today."

"How?"

"I don't know, his stupid psychic talents probably." She waved a hand through the small room. "I was at the pier, thinking. He found me, got angry…"

Again? "How angry?" Carter interrupted; he certainly didn't like the way her story seemed to be portraying Jane. It was becoming apparent that the man liked to take out all of his frustrations and emotions on Lisbon. She deserved better than that.

"Angry about you! He thinks you're using me to exact some kind of revenge." She was whispering, it was a volatile hiss. At least she remembered where she was, if this were any other place she'd probably be yelling by now. Carter knew she hated to be questioned about anything resembling her personal life or her emotions, her relationships.

Carter was shocked too, how had Jane figured out his underlying motivation? Even his own bosses weren't aware that he believed Antonio Bloch was responsible for the major illegal operation being formed across North and South America. His bosses also didn't know that he believed Antonio was responsible for his wife's death, well they thought he had left that paranoid delusion behind after he'd recovered from his wife's death. So, the man in question hadn't lit the fuse, or opened the gas main, but he had certainly sent the order. He knew that for sure; had spent five months tracking the deals and contracts, payments and collections. Tortured seven people to get to the information, Lisbon would be horrified if she ever found out exactly how much government money he's spent for his own personal gain, but it was all for Violet. Maybe she would understand; if she could be persuaded to accept that Violet's death wasn't an accident.

"He di-, said, some things. Apologized. It's Jane, I get it." She continued, "but I thought someone was watching me. It felt like someone was. So he played up the lover's tiff angle. Went in to kiss me, sort of. I broke away and left."

"So he did or didn't kiss you?" He asked teasingly, he desperately wanted to steer her away from 'revenge'.

"Didn't." She was trying too hard to sound confident. There was an extra lilt in her voice that betrayed her. When she was truly confident, her voice was calm and strong, when she was trying, it came across as forceful. There was a difference, but he'd been trained in listening to the stress markers of someone's voice. He could hear it as plain as he saw the stars at night. Maybe she was used to the members of her team not noticing.

"Why are you telling me all this?" He finally asked; there had to be a reason she was being so open. Not that she was telling him everything, but she wouldn't normally discuss these aspects of her life with him. They didn't have that kind of friendship.

"The 'someone' I felt watching me… it was Layla."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

"She had seen that I was resisting Jane. She made some comments, about how the boss wouldn't tolerate disloyalty. That if Jane became too much of a problem…"

"Right I get it. You have to cover your bases."

"I had to tell her I knew about your job." She looked down.

"About the guns?" He asked quietly.

"Yeah."

"What else?"

"That I knew our old friends were the mob, but only after they all got arrested. That I figured it out. She was pushing me, I don't know. It was like she knew I was smarter than Tina." She shook her head.

"You have the same personality." He noted.

"Huh?"

"Tina and Layla. You're both similar. She would have seen the young her in the way you behaved. She probably want's a sidekick, and she's chosen you." He rubbed a hand over his face. This just got so complicated. Not at all what he wanted.

"She chose me all right." Lisbon responded drily.

"What now? There's more?" Carter couldn't believe it. She really did have a magnet for trouble somewhere on her body.

"She wants me at the meeting tomorrow."

"Absolutely not." He stated. "It's not happening. You're already in enough danger."

"She's requested it off Antonio. He's going to let her."

"Antonio?" He replied, trying to keep his voice light and inquiring.

"Her boyfriend. He's the boss."

"Damn."

"I know."

"So it's going to be me, you, Billy, Layla and Antonio?" He asked, even though it was unnecessary for Lisbon to respond.

"At least."

"After the meeting, can I have my showdown with Jane, you know, to claim my woman?" He asked, trying to inject some humor into the horribly complicated situation that had just descended upon them.

Lisbon tried to smile, but she was beginning to get worried. Was Antonio, Antonio Bloch? And if he was, was Jane correct? Was Carter out for revenge? Why did everything Jane touch seem to go ten times into the bad before it went into the good? Furthermore, if Carter was going after Antonio, was he going to sacrifice everything he had worked his whole life for, to kill the man? If that was even the way he had decided to get his revenge, knowing Carter, and Carter's history, like she did; which didn't mean she knew a lot but she knew enough he probably had worse things in store for the man. Violet wouldn't approve of this, she was positive, but on the other hand, maybe Jane was just reading his own motivations into seemingly random coincidences of Carter's life. Wishful thinking… she just hoped that this time everything would work out.

"Just so we're clear," she sidestepped his question, "I'm coming with you tomorrow, and you are going to act surprised that I know weapons. You don't know about Jane, that I've decided I'm staying with you, but he's not likely to give up chasing Tina unless someone shoots him…"

"But he's not really chasing Tina is he? He's chasing you." Carter replied.

"He's not chasing me; he just wants me to believe him." She said indignantly.

Carter realized he wasn't going to get anywhere with Lisbon by following this track, "Got it. Act surprised; for everything." He stood up too, reached out and gave her a hug. "Let's get some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow."

* * *

_Hope this tides you over, until the BIG MEETING!_

_Are you appropriately scared and full of anticipation?_

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	18. Waiting for the Pickup

_Sorry about the shortness of this post, but I needed to cut it here before I went into overtime._

_It's just a little bit of orientation. Hopefully it will tide you over until my next post.

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Waiting for the Pickup.

Billy shuffled on the pavement; this was not what he expected. He was happy being a low ranking, unimportant but protected member. He knew in order to keep his place he needed to prove he was useful, and that's why he had brought up Carter. He knew his old friend, if he was still in business, could help their operation. He worked under the tutelage of Frank and Ash, and he never really got to know the inner workings of the gang. He didn't want to know either; not knowing is what kept him out of a longer prison sentence. He wanted to be close enough to the top rung to have privileges and prestige but not so close that he actually knew anything or held any enviable position. He didn't want to have to be on the look-out for backstabbers or hanger-ons. He wanted to do his job, however small, be protected in the family and mind his own business.

He did not like the fact that the big boss had singled him out in bringing Carter to the meeting. He was interested in knowing who the boss was, but he didn't want to know if it meant he had to give up his position. He was happy where he was, he didn't want anything to change. He kicked another pebble down the gutter. A car had just pulled up to take him to Carter's residence. The boss demanded non-descript cars to be used, just in case. Billy hadn't really been able to figure out what in case of; but that's why he wasn't the boss. He was the weasel. The guy who could get into and out of tight spaces, and who could get you what you needed and if he couldn't, he knew the guy who could.

Layla was driving. Antonio had _requested_ that she pick up Billy on the way. She didn't want to; she had never liked the slimy little man, but she did as she was told. Everyone knew better than to disregard a request from Antonio. Even though she was his girlfriend, there was only so far you could push that on the business front. She knew where that line was and she was never going to cross it again.

Van Pelt, Rigsby, Cho and Jane watched the dark car pull into the Jones' driveway.

"Trace the number plate." Cho ordered, unnecessarily. Van Pelt was already typing on her lap top.

They'd spent the past few days trying, mostly unsuccessfully to trace all the cars that the gang's members used. It was extremely frustrating; they kept bumping into false identities, shell corporations and stone walls. Van Pelt was getting so mad that for a couple of seconds she had been tempted to throw the lap top into the wall. She'd surprised herself then. She had stood up suddenly and said she needed to get out of the house. Rigsby asked her to get them some ice creams, they were all feeling the strain of their fruitless searches. It was the best idea he'd ever had. She'd missed the surprised look plastered on his face when she gave a girlish squeak of happiness at the thought. Cho hadn't. He wondered what Rigsby's face would do if Van Pelt ever hugged him of her own volition, or _heaven forbid_ kiss him.

The only thing of interest was that some of the searches were pinging InterPol sites. Van Pelt said that that happened sometimes when InterPol were keeping tabs on shady corporations or individuals. If it were urgent they should hear from someone over there soon. InterPol would want to know who exactly they thought they were looking for and if said person was a person of interest for them. It could get very confusing with the all the double-speak and whatnot, at any rate they should have some illumination soon. Cho wouldn't give out any information unless he was getting some information back too.

For his part, Jane thought the InterPol sites were probably ones devoted to Antonio Block and his escapades. He didn't know a lot about Bloch's current operations, but from what he could gather, the man was highly dangerous. But then, so was Carter when he wanted to be; he's tried to find out some factual information about him too. He'd even attempted to get Van Pelt to do some web-skiing to find out if anything was in ether. She had refused. She probably thought he was doing some jealous sort-of background check on Lisbon's boyfriend. He wasn't. There was more to Carter than what he projected, that was quite clear. But if he was smart enough to keep his vendetta a secret from the governmental agencies that specifically dealt with liars, turncoats, defectors and spies (on a regular basis); then that was a man to watch out for.

None of the team had spoken to Lisbon or Carter since two days prior. Jane had spoken to Lisbon on the pier the day before, but he wasn't about to let anyone know the context of that conversation. He was… slightly ashamed; an unusual emotion for him. He hardly ever felt regret, embarrassment. Practically the first time he had felt that in his life was due to Red John, and that was more anger interspersed with something akin to shame, but not something that could be categorized as shame. That had been more _disgrace_. His actions, albeit borne out of arrogant innocence and a false sense of superiority, had led to those consequences.

He had taunted a mass murderer; a sadistic human being at that. One that he had known would not react well to his words. But he had said them anyway believing that all the lies and illusions he had created would keep him safe; and they had, in a strange manner. They had kept him safe, just not the people who were more important than him. His bubble of security didn't extend to his family. He hadn't estimated the lengths to which Red John would go to rectify a slight. He hadn't thought there would be a retaliation; by way of his family. He should have thought through his choices more carefully; but back then, nothing had ever happened in consequence to his actions, his choices, his illusions, his lies.

Patrick Jane before Red John was carefree, conceited … careless. Oh he was joyful, fun, buoyant, but nothing tragic had occurred, he had no real empathy, no sympathy. No true understanding. He lived in a world of glamor, of pretense, of giving people what they wanted, not necessarily what they needed. He reveled in it, explored to every aspect of his betterment.

Patrick Jane after Red John was fractured, fraught with intensity, a violent pendulum of ecstatic reverence for the simplicity of life and horrendous repulsion of what he had started in The Feud. That's what he called in it, in the deepest places of his mind, this absurd and gothic battle he and Red John were caught in. The only way it would end – the snuffing out of one life.

Carter and Lisbon were having a quiet breakfast. It was a nervous quiet. Lisbon was more moving food about her plate than actually ingesting it. Carter, having more practice with these kinds of meetings, was eating. He knew he would need the sustenance. He tried light-heartedly to prod Lisbon to eat. She was too tense, he was ineffectual. Carter had the thought that Jane would probably be able to get her to eat, he wasn't sure how otherwise he would have employed it himself. But he had that instinct; in some inconceivable way, Jane had changed Lisbon. She was lighter, no… radiant, that was it. Even when she had been talking about him last night, in the bathroom, she had shone. Even recounting the anger and the frustration she felt toward him, there was a flicker, a faint ember of something more. He was glad she had someone in her life that could draw that out.

The doorbell rang.

Their eyes locked.

Carter rose slowly, loping down to the front of the house. He was 'surprised' to find both Billy and Layla. She laughed. A weird little knowing cackle; it grated instantly. Billy cringed behind her shoulder; he tilted his head in apology. How was he to know the big boss trusted Layla so much?

"Let's go, bucko." She said, "Bring Tina."

"What why?" He asked, 'confused'.

"The boss wants her to come." She responded, severely. Her tone brooking no argument.

"Uh, one minute." He left them at the door; he wasn't going to be considerate and hospitable today. He could pass it off as pre-meeting jitters.

"Tina." He said loudly, for the benefit of whoever might be listening in.

"Yeah?" She was chewing on a piece of toast crust. At least she'd be getting some nutrients? Right?

"Layla and Billy are here. They want you to come with us, to the meeting."

"Oh." Tina was supposed to know she was invited, but she hadn't told Carter… as Tina had she told Carter? She had told James Carter as Teresa Lisbon. But had she told Carter Jones as Tina Jones?

"You dressed?" He knew women, always needed to be wearing something appropriate, sometimes the pants were just 'wrong'… who knew?

"Yeah." She said, apparently today Tina was of the one syllable.

"Come on then, don't want to keep anyone waiting." He grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the seat. He walked back toward the house front, to Layla and Billy. "I've just got to get some merchandise from the garage, Billy will you help me?" Billy was aware that Tina didn't know about the guns, but he had a sinking feeling that everything was going to be revealed today.

Cho and Jane were standing motionless in the room, transfixed by the events playing out on the monitor. Cho was seated close to the screen, he had commandeered the only comfortable seat in the entire building, so it seemed. Jane was by the door, leaning against the far wall. He didn't have a couch, so the wall had become his new best friend. This was not good, Cho thought. First of all, they had been under the impression that it was only Billy and Carter going to the meeting with the boss. That it was only a preliminary meet, and as such they had not organized surveillance, cars or bugs to accompany Carter on his journey. But, they hadn't had the slightest inkling that Lisbon was going to be required to go (Carter and Lisbon had not had the opportunity to enlighten them, what with her getting home so late, and Layla and Billy showing up so early).

Cho didn't like it, neither did Jane. Van Pelt and Rigsby came back into the room laughing about some trivial thing; Van Pelt was the first to realize something was wrong. Rigsby shut up soon after, especially when Grace waved an arm in his face and leaned on the back of Cho's chair. He had an irrational urge to miraculously change places with Cho she he could be that close to her. They watched silently as Lisbon got into the front passenger side seat and Layla got into the driver's seat. When Billy and Carter came back out they were carrying two duffel bags, Layla popped the trunk; the guys dumped the bags in the back and slid into the car.

"Is there any way we can follow them?" Van Pelt asked quietly.

"Not without losing them." Cho responded. "By the time we get to the cars, we will have lost them, even if someone stayed behind here and watched them. By the time…" He trailed off, it was obvious, as he spoke Van Pelt had realized what he had meant. The car had already turned down a street and off their surveillance radar. Even if they had of been prepared there was no way they could have followed the car without the occupants' knowledge.

"Ah…Where's Jane?" Rigsby asked.

"Damn." Replied Cho; throwing a useless glance about the room.

Van Pelt moved quickly to the window, the one that looked out into the street. "The second car's gone." She said, rather futilely. It wasn't as if Jane had decided to take a rest break in the middle of the case.

Cho shook his head, feeling that annoyed smirk begin to spread on his face, now he knew how Lisbon felt most of the time. He had known Jane would probably do this if such an event, like this one, had occurred, and he still hadn't reacted in time to stop him. The man had bewitched them all. It was a wonder Lisbon managed to thwart him even the once out of the ten thousand times Jane did this. She was more talented than anyone gave her credit for.

* * *

_Short but hopefully sweet enough to satiate those cravings._

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	19. Meeting at the Meet

_You know what's hilarious about the reviews from the last chapter? Some of you are anxiously awaiting White Knight Jane on the Gallant Steed to come rescue Damsel Lisbon, and the others are all cringing at the impending doom of Jane's rambunctious nature. *Giggle* I LOVE IT :)_

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Meeting at the Meet

Antonio was waiting patiently in the old yet functional warehouse. It was slightly sleazy, he hated doing anything that so resembled a cliché, but sometimes it was just necessary. At least it wasn't an abandoned old warehouse. It was used by a pharmaceutical company to store their excess equipment. He owned part shares in the business; he was only interested in the profits. He didn't care about their work ethics or their vision, he didn't care one way or the other if they were researching anthrax treatments or anthrax mutations, bio-chemical warfare or the cure for leukemia, all he cared about was profit. And it delivered.

He was a silent partner, and all he asked was the occasional spare room to conduct business discussions in; he'd told the board that he wasn't in the area often enough to warrant renting a building at some other corporate building. They found his small request easy to oblige, he stayed out of their hair they stayed out of his. It was a beautiful arrangement.

Frank and Ash would usually accompany him on these types of business meetings, but they had already forged a slight friendship with the Jones', he couldn't afford to have that interfere with his negotiating tactics. So he had pulled two of his most hardened, trustworthy men from another detail. They weren't exactly pleased with the baby-sitting assignment but they knew how to follow orders. Not that he expected Carter to be a handful; it was a pretty straight-forward weapons buy. But one never knew. It was better to be cautious and collect a blood stained floor than be careless and collect a blood stained shirt.

He heard the purr reverberate through the warehouse's walls, Layla did appreciate cars. He contemplated standing to greet them, but wasn't sure if that would add or detract from his presence, besides Tina had already met him. He was glad the 'Jane' problem would soon be dealt with; Layla had informed him that it was a toe-dipping exercise, nothing to overreact about. Tina was in the process of backing off, and Jane would get the message soon. And if not, she was sure together they could think of something, perhaps requisition Frank or Ash for a side-mission. Antonio had smirked at her; he loved the way she thought.

The door opened; a slant of dusty light opened up, figures began to appear in the beam. A tall man; carrying a bag over one shoulder, a petite woman, a taller woman and then another man also carrying a bag; he seemed to be having trouble with its weight but no one was attempting to help him.

"Good Morning." He greeted them.

"Antonio," Layla replied, walking faster so she could kiss him. While she was, he heard the others reply too, their words an echo of morning.

"Tina, wonderful to see you again." He said, reaching out a hand to collect hers in a handshake. He saw Carter tense and changed his mind; he twisted his loose hold of her palm, bringing it up to his face where he kissed her knuckles. She smiled slightly, embarrassed.

"Antonio." She replied, ducking her head so she wouldn't see her husband's reaction. She hadn't told him they had met previously, interesting.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Carter said, having gotten his initial reaction under control. He liked that Carter was adroit at controlling his emotions; there was nothing worse than an overly emotionally employee.

How dare he touch Lisbon, Carter thought; rage coursing through his system. He knew exactly what kind of man this was. He wanted Lisbon out of here as soon as possible. She was definitely leaving town by nightfall, no matter what, he'd use Violet as a means of her obeying him if necessary. He wouldn't like it but he would do it, for Lisbon, for his wife. At least the rest of his plans were coming to fruition. This was Antonio Bloch, mastermind of a thousand illegal operations and instigator of his wife's death. He would make this maggot pay. He would be punished dearly for wiping Violet from the face of the earth. He been patient so far, he'd waited and stayed; he'd resisted and lingered, pausing for the appropriate time.

Oh how he wished he could zip open the bag, pull out one of the guns and blow the man's head away. But that would be counter-productive to what he was trying to achieve. He wanted to ruin his life, not end it. He wanted the pain to be prolonged; he wanted Antonio to be within an inch of death only to be pulled back by a merciless hand. To see hope shining on the horizon, only to have the torture begin anew. He wanted him to feel like that Ancient Greek god, the one whose liver was eaten out daily by a buzzard; merely to be grown back again by the morning. He wanted the man to be caught in an endless hell, burned out and broken, lingering on the precipice of death, never to fall.

He clawed his control back, the hatred and rage being pushed into the box of his heart. He was doing this for Violet and he needed to be in control. Poised, assured of himself. He grinned at Antonio, _yes, please. Kiss my wife's hand, seduce her in my presence – what do I care, I'm merely here to service your desires. What's mine is yours…amigo._

"Shall we begin?" Antonio inquired.

"Certainly." He replied.

Antonio turned and motioned to the two guards, they moved to the middle of the large floor, pulling on some levers and cords, twisting and twanging the metal ropes. A fake wall opened.

Lisbon's jaw dropped, it was an interesting experience allowing her initial reactions to be the first ones to have control over her facial features. Usually she had to keep her first and second, and sometimes third, reactions under strict control. As Agent Lisbon, it wouldn't do to allow her surprise or shock or disgust be seen openly. She had spent many years learning how to curb her facial expressions. She had a love/hate relationship with Jane because of that, he had somehow managed to ferret his way through her control. He could make her react truthfully, even when she was trying her hardest not to react at all, to anything. She hated it, because he saw too much already. She loved it, because she was so used to controlling her expressions, her emotions, her laughter, the truth of Teresa (in a way); that it was a relief that someone could prove to her she was still that woman, somewhere, even in the midst of the hideous cases showcasing human imperfection.

She smiled slightly, enjoying Tina and Carter's reactions. She loved the dramatic nature of Antonio. If you couldn't do something in style, why do it at all? Layla moved over to her lover, wrapping herself under his open arm; she reveled in the powerful aura he emitted. She grinned encouragingly at Tina, nodding her in the right direction. It was time for naïve Tina to exit the building and the strong, intelligent woman she knew was hiding underneath to make an appearance. Layla only hoped the revelation would be worthy of the drama Antonio was currently invoking.

Behind the false wall was a target range. Antonio was nothing if not prepared. He was wary of any dealer that he did not have a personal connection with; he was going to test Carter's merchandise. And since Layla had found out some interesting things about the apparent ignorance of Tina; he was going to get her to test the weapons on the makeshift range. If she had been lying to Layla, this would very quickly prove it. Also, if Carter was a plant, an undercover police officer who was trying to sell him faulty weaponry, it would backfire in his 'wife's' face. He had other contingency plans in place but for now these ones would work.

Billy didn't like this, not one bit. He wanted to leave. He'd only been peripherally involved in Carter's association with his bosses in the Columbian mob, and he had never been required to be at the actual trade. He glanced around the room, the others had started towards the range, he hung back. He wasn't good with the physical side of weaponry. His job was retail. That's what he did, he found out who, or what, or where, you had to go to get what you wanted. He had never been required to actually go get it or figure out which product was better than some other product. It had never been asked of him to know more than who the dealers and who the buyers were. He did his small job, his one tiny cog piece, he never wanted to be this involved, but the bosses of this new mob hadn't let him get away with such a small role. Everyone was required to be in this endeavor to the fullness of their ability. Except Noel; he didn't think she did anything. Maybe she was the lover of another boss? He wasn't sure though, hell, he hadn't even known Layla was attached to one of the bosses. He should have been able to pick up on that easily. Maybe he was losing his touch. Apparently, he'd lost more than time when he was in prison.

"This is my target range." Antonio said, rather irrelevantly. "I want Tina to test the products."

Tina stifled a gasp. Carter frowned, his wife didn't know anything about his job, she didn't know about the guns. What game was Antonio trying to play?

"Antonio. Tina doesn't know…" He said uncertainly. Carter knew this would need to be played out properly, any slip and everything was blown.

"Well, apparently you don't know your wife as well as you think you do." Layla replied smugly.

"What does that mean?" He asked menacingly.

"Carter, I-" Tina tried to say.

"She knows all about your finances." Layla taunted.

"Layla, please. Let me explain." Tina said, moving quickly to stand between her husband and Layla, her new best friend.

"Yes Layla." Antonio added, as much as he knew she loved doing the big reveal. He really didn't an argument erupting in the middle of this meet. "Let the woman explain."

"Go ahead." She said, magnanimously.

"Carter. After the last time, when you moved me to Canada… I figured out about your _job_." Tina said softly; not wanting to antagonize him any further than Layla already had. It was that woman's special talent.

"Job?" Carter asked.

"The guns."

"You know about the guns?" He was 'astonished'.

"Yeah." She replied, sheepishly. "I started learning how to use them while you were away. I even joined a gun club up there. I got pretty got. Not great, but okay."

"Why have you been keeping this from me?" He asked, intrigued. Carter had always loved women with an appreciation for the machinery that was firearms. Both Carter's, James and Jones. He knew Lisbon could shoot, obviously, she was an Agent. But sometimes he allowed the fracture of their personalities to create totally different people. Lisbon always had the guns, never Tina.

"I didn't know how to tell you, and you seemed to thrive on the secrecy of it…" She looked at him uncertainly, waiting for his seal of approval.

"I don't know…" He said sadly, waiting for the right moment. "I think it's kind of hot." He smirked.

Layla, Antonio and his two guards smirked too, Billy cringed in the corner. _Great, _he thought, _just what he needed, another gun crazy member of this mob_.

She grinned suddenly. He was in front of her in two steps.

He kissed her.

It was short; more than peck, less than a proper kiss… their lips did a slow, comfortable acknowledgment. One reserved for lovers who had spent years being married. It still annoyed Jane more than it should have.

Ever since he had watched the man kiss Lisbon that first time, in the office, his tolerance for watching her being kissed by Carter was lessening. He had been shocked the first time and a little possessive if he was being honest. But it was the shock of her being married before and him not having a clue that had thrown him, more than the kiss. At least that's what he had thought at the time. He hadn't liked the way Carter had reached out to her and cupped the back of her head, running his hands through her hair. Well, not running them through her hair, but still … touching her hair. It was inappropriate, and it was un-business-like, and it was wrong. It was just wrong. Nobody should be kissing Lisbon in the office.

Then he had had to watch them going at it like newlyweds in their backyard, and no matter how many times he had told himself it was all for the case, there was a twinge of uncertainty. He supposed he hadn't thought Lisbon was capable of such abandon. He had hoped of course, after all isn't that what he was striving for her to accept about herself? That she was vital, life-loving, valiant, radiant, gorgeous woman? He prodded her and annoyed her, teased her to see those sparks of life radiate from her eyes. He loved it when she teased him back, the warmth that would color her voice. It had been almost tangible when he had been blinded for those few, short days. Her teasing lilt taking on, almost, a color in his black world.

He hadn't had to suffer through any other Lisbon/Carter kisses since then. He mainly tried to avoid any situation that might call upon Carter and Tina to do so, but when they'd been on the pier together, when he had her in his arms, strands of her hair moving through the fingers of the wind. He'd wanted to kiss her, hadn't he? He couldn't quite remember the specifics of it; had he hypnotized himself somehow? He knew it was possible, self-hypnosis, more a form of mediation than hypnotic _trance_ or whatever 'hip' word was trendy right now.

He knew he needed to make it look like he was kissing her, for their covers. So he'd cradled her face, enjoying the feel of it; echoing that blindly stretch for her smile. In the past, he would have just kissed her. Properly, seen how far he could push it, twist her trust for him so that he could take his moment of intrigue, pleasure. But it was Lisbon, and _after_, so he'd pressed his lips to the corner of her mouth. Three quarters of his mouth on the quirk of her smile; the place the quirk would be if she were smiling; one quarter of his mouth landing on the corner of her mouth, her lips. Soft. When he pulled back, or maybe it was her; tingly. His mouth had tingled with the experience; his mouth wanted another go, another chance at perfection. Another chance to figure out exactly what that might feel like if his whole mouth got to have the opportunity to kiss Lisbon.

His brain was kind of stuck. It couldn't make the choice. It wouldn't relinquish control of his body. So that his mouth could get what he wanted, but it also wouldn't let his brain try to figure out what had just happened. By the time Jane thought he could form a word, like 'Hey', she was gone.

Jane peered over the crates and pallets strewn across his side of the warehouse. Antonio Bloch was leading the group toward a table set up near the range. Show time, for Lisbon.

* * *

_Jane decided to go on this kissing tangent. Who was I to stop him?_

_Hopefully, he'll allow me to get on with the meet in the next chapter. _

_Lisbon as Tina is supposed to strut her weapons-handling stuff in the next post :)_

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	20. On Target

_Hi guys, I'm so sorry about this being late, well... late for me. Work has been crazy, crazy... no time for anything else. I'm le tired. :( _

_But I finally got this up to par._

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On Target

Lisbon stared at the table. Upon it were the 'products' her 'husband' was going to be selling to 'their boss', the man who very probably was in charge of running the mob they were 'trying' to become 'members' of; talk about confusing. This was why when she was going undercover she tried to limit contact with people who knew her as Teresa Lisbon. But that hadn't panned out this time; Jane was being his usual insufferable person, Van Pelt was heaven but still not exactly conducive to helping her stay 'Tina' and right now she needed to access 'Tina's' weapons knowledge. She needed to know less than Lisbon, but more than first time Tina. How far along in her firearm capability should she be? She cast a quick glance toward Carter, her 'husband'.

She wanted the throw him a nervous glance (as Lisbon) but since she was Tina she threw him a saucy one instead.

Jane's breath caught. Had she ever done that smile before? He suddenly had an imagine of Lisbon waking him up slowly in a bedroom somewhere, like Bora Bora, bright sun streaming in through the translucent blinds, warmth and happiness enveloping them. He would open his eyes to see her smiling down on him like that; without the guns and the other armed men of course, and no Carter. Especially no Carter.

Carter smirked in reply. He loved Lisbon when she was being cheeky. She had such an innocent, child-like quality. He wished he had been able to see his wife and her together. That was his third wish, after; one, having his wife back, alive and well, and two; killing and torturing the people responsible for his wife's death, but definitely after those, he wanted to have a relaxed dinner at home with his wife and her college best friend. He wanted to see the strain and tension of Lisbon as Tina melt away so that only Agent Lisbon remained, and then finally, the woman, Teresa Lisbon, at home in her best friend's house. He wanted to see her; laughing over spilled wine and crackers on the floor, watching black and white movies where death and gruesome murder where extravagant plot points not everyday occurrences.

There were three guns on the table. They were in separate pieces. She hadn't expected to be required to put them together; she'd thought Antonio would only want her to shoot them. Show their range on the targets, apparently he was interested in more than just her aim…

"Any particular order?" She inquired lightheartedly.

"Handgun." He replied.

She nodded and picked up the clip and barrel, after a cursory look across the table she found the third section. Steadily, because she was Tina and not Lisbon, she put them together. She checked it three times, making a thoughtful frown appear on her face. She knew she had done it correctly, but Tina would want to make triple sure. When Tina was satisfied that she had put the handgun together successfully she looked over to Carter triumphantly.

"Good." Antonio said, "Please, use the far target. I want to see it in practice."

She nodded once more; making her way to the third target. Standing at a respectable distance, parallel to the target; she took a slightly tensed stance. Lisbon wouldn't have been much more relaxed, but she had been trained early on in life, and she'd had many teachers over the years. She'd watched the way they handled guns. The differences in stances, hand holds, leg stances and breathing techniques; she used of the best parts of her many teachers. She had a style unique, actually she had quite a few stances. When she was on duty it was Agent-ly, in control, strong, fortuitous. When she was off-duty, at target practice or when she was playing skirmish at the paintball club, she was much more relaxed. She was known as Fly there, she was annoying and quick, she could get into enclosed 'protected' places better than anyone else on their teams.

She enjoyed the easy camaraderie and relaxed joyfulness of playing mock battles. No one got hurt or died, except for the occasional battle 'bruise'. Those were joyfully paraded about after the wins and losses were examined. She rarely showed hers off, but once she'd had a beauty on her calf. One of the guys had wanted to take a photo of it and use it as his phone's wallpaper. She'd refused and because she was The Fly, it was okay. If anyone else had tried to refuse Bomber's request the team would have employed peer pressure and embarrassment to try and force them to agree. Fly was special.

Lisbon shot off a few rounds into the target. She aimed them concentrically to the left and lower on the target than the center. She took pride in the fact that they were one centimeter apart. A perfect little circle, if it had of been visually resembling a circle. As it was, it was more a wonky square, but that only added to Tina's amateur status.

Soon Antonio had her moving onto the rifle, and then the large machine gun. That one was harder to set up. Lisbon was more accustomed to the rifle and the handgun than the machine gun. She, obviously, knew enough about the guns to recognize them by model, and she knew how to operate them but she had never had to put one together before. That wasn't exactly in the training manual of the CBI. At that point, Carter had intervened and helped her put it together.

Antonio was pleased with the developments. The weapons, so far, had worked perfectly, Tina was more accomplished than he had first though, although she wasn't up to the caliber he preferred his subordinates to have. But that could be rectified, he was sure Carter would get lots of quality time logged in with his wife to procure the added skills she needed. He hadn't minded when Carter had approached Tina to help her set up the machine gun. He hadn't expected her to know how to use the rifle either, so at least she was more developed than he had expected. He had low expectations, she had after all learned theses skills from random gun-happy Canadians; and they didn't believe in arming oneself for protection as the other North Americans did. Hell, even in South America guns were like Californian womens' handbags, they're practically accessories.

Jane was in awe. He had of course realized that Lisbon knew how to use weapons; they'd been in enough situations (usually on account of something he had done) for him to observe Lisbon's adeptness with weapons. Once she'd been so on the ball that she'd managed to stop a man twice his size with a decaying log of firewood before Jane had even been hit in the face for the sixtieth time. She hadn't seemed happy about it either, brilliantly hissing at him to behave or the next time she'd allow the affronted civilian to strike him. He hadn't believed her; BIG mistake. That particular bruise had been green for a week. Every time Lisbon saw it she had this far away grin/frown thing happening on her face. It was like her emotions were warring with each other. Jane hadn't been able to figure out which one it was, and then, whether it was her own personal responsibilities for him that was causing her so much grief or the mixed realization that she was enjoying his discomfort.

He knew Lisbon had an awkward time reconciling her feelings for him. She cared for him; that much was obvious, but in what capacity? As a friend; she cared about him, teased him when she had seen him kiss Sophie, smiled amusedly when men flirted with him and he gently let them down, more often than not utilizing Van Pelt, if she was available, to dissuade the interested parties. He knew she loved watching the expressions of the men involved; Rigsby's expressions were usually priceless. Jane knew he shouldn't mess with the man's emotions. He knew how the B.F.G. felt, so in love with Grace and unable to act on it. The new and different life he led now made him not want to create more emotional turmoil for Rigsby but surely the man understood the necessity for borrowing Van Pelt. Lisbon reveled too much in his discomfort to allow him to use her; even though she would always be his first choice.

As a boss; she cared about him. He was her responsibility, foisted upon her by the higher ups. Her training and early adolescence making her the perfect vessel for the troublesome man-child; many of Minelli's colleagues had been surprised at how easily Lisbon had accommodated and curbed Jane's wildness. He had worked with five teams before Minelli had drawn the short straw. Lisbon probably wasn't aware, what with all of Minelli's yelling and weekly censure, but she circumvented his more outlandish plans more often than she realized. With the other teams, his complaints per case were several _times_ higher than with her. Her superiors knew, and they were impressed. So impressed in fact that he'd heard 'whispers' (not the actual voice whispers, but his intuition whispers) that she was being cultivated for more important positions. Minelli was immensely pleased, Jane knew that was partly the reason he came down so hard on Lisbon for what Jane did. In her new position (that, thankfully, was still years off) she would be responsible for a lot more people, not just her three team members plus the 'crazy consultant' (a term he'd heard Wilson's team call him [team number three he believed]), and most of those new subordinates would bring many troubles to her desk almost, probably more frequently than Jane did. In a way, Jane knew, Minelli and the other Powers That Control were testing her, training her, preparing her for her future.

But there was another level of their relationship, a level that neither of them wanted to explore. They both refused to acknowledge that level, it was like their whole relationship was a building. It had levels, but out of the five floors, only four were marked. The third level was always by-passed by the lift that traversed between the floors, between the nuances of their friendship, their friendship, their relationship.

Level One was the Boss/Subordinate/Colleague/Mentalist level, Two was Friendship, they spent a lot of time wavering between those two, Level Three was the unmarked one, Four was their snarky, annoyed, frustrated level, this usually occurred when they were trying to figure out how to avoid being in the lift when the doors opened on Level Three. Come to think of it, it was usually Lisbon who pushed the lift over into Level Four instead of allowing it to loiter at Three. But, Jane wasn't very adept at recognizing the dangers of hanging out around Three, he really wanted to let those doors open and peek inside. When he truly reflected upon what would happen if they did, he didn't like what he saw. It was dangerous, that level, it would ruin everything, or change it. But then he'd always had the problem of needing to know – damn the consequences. He knew about consequences now, he was much more careful when it concerned people he cared about. And on certain levels he cared about all the members of his little CBI team. Level Three could ruin everything. Level Five – that was the level that had surprised Jane the first time he had found himself standing on its precipice. It was the level that made him bare his brokenness, his hatred, his carefully concealed vileness. That was the level in which pain lived. It was the one place where they were completely truthful with each other. The one place where their shields were thrown down and their true faces were revealed.

His attention moved back to watch Lisbon fire the machine gun. The loud bursts echoing throughout the sparsely filled warehouse. Carter was standing behind her, correcting her position. Something within him growled lowly. It wasn't a noise per se, it was a low feeling rumbling deep within his chest. It surprised him, the visceral response to seeing Carter touching Lisbon that way. Teaching her, correcting her; the man didn't deserve her trust. Not with what he was planning to do, he wouldn't allow Carter to drag Lisbon into his vendetta; no good could come from that. Antonio's mob was too dangerous, too bloody.

Antonio was devious in the ways he disposed of unpleasant opposition. With the meager research and the little information he'd been able to gather about Antonio Bloch (the small tidbits that hadn't been sealed or classified) showed how disturbed and utterly 'controlled' he was. Heinous criminals who had opposed Antonio had been poisoned with rare biological serums, burned, bombed, drowned, dismembered, broken, beaten, maimed, starved, or simply became another 'missing person'. And none of the deaths, dismemberments or desertions could be traced back in any way to Antonio Bloch. All of the information attributed to Antonio was mere conjecture, the police officers citing 'gut instinct' or 'just a feeling'.

Lisbon finished firing the last gun, placing it carefully back on the table once it was secure. Carter hugged her loosely, he was proud of her. She'd done a bad enough job to not tip anyone off to her occupation, but just well enough for her story to be plausible. He sighed softly into her neck; he had been so worried when he'd realized what Antonio was up to. Now all he had to do was get her out of this meeting and far away from him and this damned mob. Then he would know she was safe and protected and then he could get on with the purpose of this whole thing. The plan that had been in place for the last two years. He'd been extremely patient so far, he wasn't about to let anyone screw that up, especially not that insipid woman Layla and her little girl-crush on Lisbon… Tina, whoever.

Antonio was immensely pleased. Tina would made a fine companion for his lovely, vivacious Layla. He could just picture them being the forefront of his operation, lulling the competition into relaxation with their feminine wiles, and beautiful laughter. Their striking looks would fit nicely with his sister's. He couldn't wait to see all three of them, his beautiful African-American goddess, his Spanish rose (a throwback to their grandmother), most people just assumed Noel was from Spain her looks nothing like what the movies portrayed South Americans to be; everyone saw the Peruvian mix in the bloodlines and simply thought everyone looked like that. And then he imagined Lisbon, her paleness and shortness an intriguing contrast… too bad she didn't have a lighter hair color. Perhaps, Layla could persuade her to change it? Red head perhaps? No, her complexion wouldn't allow for that, but a sandy blonde might. He'd bring it up with Layla and Noel, they'd know what to do.

He kept Noel out of the baser parts of his business. She was his negotiator. She'd grown up in the same situations as he had, her quietness and calm were deceptive; she had the heart of a mongrel. She was vicious when crossed, not even Layla had seen that side of her almost sister. When they got Carter into a binding 'contract', a verbal understanding one unbreakable and not in the least related to any westernized law. There was no getting out of one of his 'contracts', until death...

Lisbon, for the first time since setting foot into the damned warehouse, was finally starting to feel comfortable. The most precarious part of the meet was over, now all they had to do was agree upon the terms and they could leave. Then there was a noise. It was familiar, but odd. Not a sound she heard incredibly often, but still familiarly mundane. It was a sneeze.

Patrick Jane was stuck halfway between shocked and mortified. He had perfect control over his body. It was a necessity in his line of business… his old line of business. He had sneezed. And he'd been unable to stop it. Hadn't even known it was coming, usually there was the slight tickle that would grow and grow until you wished to sneeze just so you could release the tension. But there was nothing, he'd been fine and stealthily silent one moment, after-sneeze relaxed and in complete horror the next.

"Gotcha." A low voice declared.

* * *

_So a big whoops for Jane._

_And I debated allowing 'low voice' to be so obvious with his word choicage, but you know it's probably one of thugs, and we all know they don't have an imagination! So i forgive myself for that :)_

_Hope you all enjoyed this next section._

_Arc  
_


	21. After Effects

_This chapter just had no good place to cut it. And it would seriously be epically long to try and do it all in one go. Besides the next post is kinda emotional. I didn't want to make it incredibly heavy. Hope you can all forgive me.

* * *

_

After Effects

Lisbon and Carter watched in astonishment as Body Guard #2 rounded one of the pallets, piled high with boxes owned by the pharmaceutical company, with a slightly discomfited Jane following him; mainly due to the fact that Body Guard #2 had a tight grip on his forearm. Jane threw her a sheepish shrug. He truly couldn't _not_ understand how delicate this situation was, could he? Carter thought.

Lisbon couldn't for the life of her curb her reaction to seeing him. She grimaced and dropped her head into her waiting palm. _Jane_, she groaned inwardly. _What were you thinking?_ How could they possibly play this off as anything other than a cop following them, Antonio was going to be furious. Jane was dead. There was no way out of it. Even if she and Carter broke cover right now, there was no way they were getting out of this warehouse alive. It was five against three, one of whom wasn't even armed and rarely knew which end of the gun was the more effective. Also, Carter currently wasn't close enough to said guns to do anything heroic. Lisbon was, and although she was technically closer to the machine gun, she couldn't use it effectively in such a small space with there being the incredibly high probability of hitting Jane. Body Guard #1 was already moving to intercept Jane. Body Guard #2 had a death grip on the insanely annoying consultant, Antonio too was armed and looking mightily pissed off. Billy was cowering somewhere by the front entrance, and Layla was way too amused for Lisbon's liking. There was nothing she could do.

Carter quickly perused the game plan. He and Lisbon could turn on the mob; try to disarm the three highly trained and vicious members but the outcome of that being successful was exceptionally not likely. They could try to use the guns he was supposed to be selling to Antonio, but they didn't have much ammunition left. He'd, wisely (or so he'd thought at the time) only included enough ammo to allow him (as it turned out, Lisbon) to demonstrate the weapons to Antonio's satisfaction. If he had known he was going to be needing the guns to save Lisbon's idiotic team member he would have stocked up enough to infiltrate the Russian Consulate. So with the remaining bullets they'd really only get a maximum of twenty shots even with interspersing the three guns, and they definitely did not have enough time to try that! Or he could let Jane take the fall for his intrusion, and just let Antonio do whatever he was planning to do. And if he'd been anywhere else, with anyone else, he would have taken Option B. But, he knew, Lisbon would extricate herself from his life quicker than he could blink if he allowed Jane (an _innocent/civilian_) to be hurt, most likely to be tortured and killed for his stupidity. He couldn't do that to Lisbon, he cared about her too much.

There had to be another option. Option C. There just had to be. He swung a quick glance at Lisbon, she had lifted her head from her hand, and she was looking at Jane in a mixture of dismay, annoyance, frustration and a little extra spice of hate. Probably because she should have known he would try something like this and she'd been giving him a little latitude. She was going to hate herself forever if Jane got hurt over this. He couldn't allow Lisbon to live with the pain and anguish that would cause. There were enough people in her life dragging out self-hate, self-disgust and the ghosts of family member. Hell, Lisbon had ghosts of her own tracking her every movement. She'd just had years more experience with them.

He made his decision. He left her side, immediately walking menacingly toward Jane; a look of pure hatred upon his face. It wasn't that hard to enact; he just pictured Antonio's face superimposed upon Jane's. Body Guard #2 looked surprised but didn't try to stop him from approaching.

Antonio was intrigued, what was going on? He decided he would allow this dalliance a little longer … not much though.

Jane was honestly frightened; one look at Antonio had told him all he needed to know about the man. He was selfish, utterly, viciously and sadistically. Jane had no doubts now, Carter was completely correct in his assessment of the man. If Antonio hadn't been responsible for Violet Carter's death, he was surely responsible for hundreds of others, especially if you took into account his drug and weaponry business. So Jane decided in that split-second that Carter's vendetta was a valid one. He could even understand the compulsion, after all isn't that why he was currently 'working for' the CBI? To find Red John.

Note the word 'find' not 'catch', catching implied a sort of holding onto for another purpose, Lisbon wanted to 'catch' Red John and hold him to trial and jury, prolong the inhumane being's life for countless years, trials, appeals and whatnot. Red John would get publicity, followers, a small cell in a prison full of other criminals who he could boast to, food, entertainment and the like. He didn't deserve such luxuries. What he deserved was death, and whatever happened or didn't happen after that. If nothing happened, good; if something did, Jane was in no doubt that whoever's religion was correct that Red John would reside in whatever realm constituted Christian's Hell.

The only problem Jane had with Carter's plan was the obvious flaw: Lisbon's involvement. She had no business being placed in the middle of Carter's war. She'd get hurt or worse, and Jane wasn't about to let anyone's rage and anger lead to the light that was Lisbon being snuffed out. His thoughts led to his body tensing, Carter was almost upon him. He glared at the man, reproaching him for placing Lisbon in this precarious position.

Layla positively glowed in anticipation of the manly posturing happening right before her eyes. She'd always loved men fighting over her, in fact she encouraged. Obviously ever since meeting Antonio she had had to give up those expectations. Antonio was far too ALPHA for any man to try and steal her away from him. She watched Tina's men face each other. Carter; all dark and brooding, his large, muscled body rippling with tension, his abrupt anger and awareness permeating the warehouse. Jane; all angry and possessive, his tall, almost regal frame motionless with resentment. She shivered in expectation, she wondered who would win. She was almost positive it was going to be Carter. She just hoped that Jane gave a passable try. She'd be slightly disappointed if he went down with pitiable ease.

Carter clenched his hand. He swung his arm around, feeling the sore muscles of his previously dislocated shoulder yowl in pain. He grimaced, but luckily he could pass that off as Jane having a preternaturally strong jaw. Jane stumbled, dropping to one knee on the cold floor in shock.

Lisbon gasped. Not expected.

"Stop following my wife. Stop following her about the room with your lecherous eyes. Stop following her into secluded areas to try and seduce her. She's too good for you." Carter all but yelled at the crouching figure; his voice cutting through the stillness of the warehouse with a decidedly resilient timbre.

Layla was enjoying this so much she had to fight to keep the smile of her face. She hadn't known Carter was aware of Tina's toe dippings. She was pleased; this meant that their relationship was more interesting. She couldn't abide plain and uninteresting people. They were the worst sort of people.

Antonio grinned. Layla had told him everything about Tina's little predicament. He was extremely partial to men owning what was theirs, taking care of the little things, making sure their woman knew who was Boss. It would not do to have his weapons guy being cuckolded by that smarmy man. One look, up close and personal, with the man named Jane let him see everything he needed to. Jane was a showman, a dilettante; he was in the world to be gazed at like a pretty bauble. He had no depth to him, no past, no pain; he wouldn't satisfy their interesting Tina like Carter could. Antonio, while master of many black market arts, was also well versed in the mind of the female. He understood them better than they sometimes understood themselves.

Jane was shocked, but he understood immediately what Carter was doing. Trying to save his life, who was he to try and circumvent him? He stayed on the floor, waiting for an opportune moment. He idly wondered where the rest of the team was. Surely they had noticed he was gone quite quickly, obviously not as soon as Lisbon would have; she did seem to have some sort of Jane-dar. He wondered at that sometimes, alone in the office on his couch, or at home under the red devil's grin. When he couldn't reflect on those intimate, basic happy moments with his wife and child, he thought about Lisbon instead. Sometimes the team made appearances in his projected flashbacks, but Lisbon was a common theme.

The team, in fact, was nearing his position. After some fervent moments of complete panic, with Grace basically hyperventilating (Rigsby looking around awkwardly for a brown paper bag), Cho looked mightily green in the face (Rigsby looking around for an airplane quality paper bag) and random images of Lisbon castrating them all (Rigsby looking around in horror for something resembling a protective piece of equipment – he found a used paper bag); Rigsby suddenly remembered that the car Jane had taken had built in GPS. Van Pelt immediately did her technology thing and got the coordinates. They piled into the other car; the one Cho had used during his stake-out of Lisbon and Layla's dinner, and followed the tiny blinking dot that represented Jane.

Jane was surprised when he felt the coppery tang settle on his tongue. Wow, he had thought the jab was just for show; apparently Carter had issues with him that he was keeping under wraps. _Well, good, buddy_, he thought, _I don't like you either_. And given half the chance, if Jane were that way inclined, he'd have a good old fashioned fight with him too. But right now keeping Lisbon safe was more important. It seemed like Carter agreed with that assessment too, so for this particular piece of the present, they were working together. He had two options with the blood currently filling his mouth. Swallow or spit. He couldn't swallow it; too many images of the blood soaked sheets of his daughter's room. The fear and blood stagnating with every breath she didn't take. He didn't want to spit it out either, but he couldn't just keep it in his mouth, with every extra moment he feeling sicker and sicker. He leaned to the side and quickly spat, aiming for B2's shoes. He missed, but only because Carter had chosen that moment to jerk him to his feet.

Layla was suddenly standing beside her. _When had she moved_? Lisbon was hoping Carter would figure out a way to get them out of here before Jane did something else she was going to regret.

"I can't believe he followed you here." She said, smiling prettily, as if Jane's life wasn't in danger.

"Yeah…" She couldn't even affect enthusiasm.

"Don't worry. About Carter. If he knew and didn't stop Jane straight away, he must have known you would get over the little crush or lust or whatever it was and come back to him."

_Seriously?_ Lisbon looked at Layla in amazement, _this is the time you choose to try and develop some girl-bond?_

Lisbon shook her head at Layla, looking back toward her husband and Jane. Something was happening.

Carter knew everything he had planned was now over. He couldn't explain the particular reasons why he knew this, he just did. Something about the way Jane had blithely followed them, putting Lisbon in so much more danger, it made him realize that he had Antonio Bloch right where he wanted him. So, it would be a little hard to isolate him, but he had never been adverse to collateral damage. As long as the collateral wasn't damaging anyone _he_ cared about. And there was only one person he cared about anymore. He just had to make sure she was okay, and the best way to do that was to make his actions as surprising and as unexpected as possible. That would be easy. His best (most awarded) assignments had always occurred because of some split-second decision he made on site.

His brain immediately reconstituted the warehouse and its inhabitants into a floor plan diagram. He designated himself as center; Jane was one foot and twelve degrees in front of him. Lisbon and Layla were further afield, about fifteen feet and two hundred degrees behind him, B1 and B2 were a couple of degrees either side of Jane and roughly the same amount of distance. Antonio was twenty feet away and almost a perfect ninety degrees directionally. Superb. He gave B2 a conciliatory gaze. The guard looked confused for a couple of seconds. Then he was acting only on reflex.

Carter jerked Jane to his feet, pulling the oddly possessive man away from the floor and the guards. He swung the off-balance Jane further away from the other men, giving him a backwards push. He then promptly forgot about him. He was too busy dealing with B2 and B1. They had instinctively, and in a show of their exceptional training, automatically raised their firearms. But Carter knew exactly what he was doing. While he had been pulling Jane up and around to the left, he had taken a curving step forward, bringing him closer to B2. As Jane had passed both their bodies, Carter thrust an arm forward, coming in under the man's jacket. He pulled out the Glock concealed near his waist. As he drew the handgun back towards his own body he shot the guard three times in the gut; slowly rising the barrel upwards with each shot. As the guard went down, he pulled on the man's arm, disrupting his final stance. B2 fell, it might have been on Jane, Carter wasn't sure; he was too busy moving to intercept the surprisingly spry B1.

B1 was ready. His accompanying Glock was out and waiting. But he hadn't shot yet. Carter wasn't going to wait around and find out why; he shot him, triple-tap to the chest. Right over the heart. No walking away from that one. As the surprised and quickly dying guard fell, Carter reflected that the well-trained muscle-man was probably waiting for orders from his boss: the ever-knowing Antonio. _Well, he wasn't quick enough, was he,_ he sneered.

Layla was enraged. _How dare Carter Jones just kill two of Antonio's men like that!_ They hadn't even done anything worthy of teaching them a lesson, let alone killing them. If anyone deserved a shot to the head in this warehouse it was obviously Jane. He was the one who had tried it on with the man's wife, not Antonio's two men. She hadn't met them before, of course, but they, by extension, were a part of Antonio, and nobody messed with her man. She shoved Tina out of the way, it was a quick shove, not meant to hurt her or displace her too much. Just enough of a shove to get her to move a few spaces forward; so she could reach the weapons on the table behind them.

She picked up the machine gun first. Antonio had taught her how to shoot on their first 'date'. It had led to some interesting positions in the target range, but that's what made it all the more fun. The only real problem was that Layla hadn't used this particular type of weapon before, she wasn't entirely sure were the safety was, and whether she had to pump the barrel or do some other random macho thing to make sure the gun would shoot properly.

While Layla was focused on figuring out the gun, Lisbon's small cry of surprise at the sudden force of being shoved out of the way had notified Carter of a development behind his back. He twisted with a dancer's ease, gun trained on the last known position of Lisbon. There was Layla, fiddling with the newest incarnation of his favorite model of machine gun. He grinned. It was obvious she wasn't familiar with it. Carter weighed up the option of waiting for her to figure it out or to just shoot her and get it over with, but he didn't usually like killing people whom he wasn't sure were heavily involved. He went through what he knew about her. Layla was Antonio's girlfriend but that didn't necessarily mean that she was 'involved'. He understood, from her picking them up, that she was around for the negotiations, and he had come to understand that she wanted to take Tina under her wing and to train her up for some nefarious purpose within Antonio's organization. Those few reasons solidified her guilt.

She had finally figured out the machine gun. The barrel was already pointing in his direction and from his last calculation the weapon had about ten rounds left. He heard an odd groan from the floor, near his feet. Casting a quick glance downwards, he realized B2 had indeed fallen on top of Jane. The man was finally trying to start moving again. He brought his leg up, extending the lower half and stood on B2's back, effectively pinning Jane to the floor. He didn't need a fourth distraction. _Keeping eyes on Layla, Lisbon and Antonio were enough to worry about right now, thank you._

Jane was fuzzily angered. He'd been thrown unceremoniously onto the floor by Lisbon's 'husband'. He knew it was in an attempt to save him, but did he have to be so rough about it? He was also aware that several shots had been fired. By whom, he wasn't sure, but he'd hazard a guess and say Carter. He could vaguely see the outline of Lisbon and Layla, from underneath B2's rapidly dying arm. He shuddered as the man took another weakening breath. He'd never thought he think this way about anyone other than Red John, but he kind of hoped the man would hurry up and die. The wheezing, blood spattered breathing was freaking him out. The man was also incredibly heavy and he couldn't get out from under him. He'd tried, but more pressure had been applied. Jane was too worried about Lisbon to figure out where exactly it was coming from.

Lisbon's brain wasn't really processing much of what was happening, and Tina wasn't faring much better. All she knew was that she needed to protect Jane and Carter. Jane was fine so far, being pinned beneath the second body guard. Carter had a handgun and was pointing it directly at Layla. He'd already killed two men, she wasn't going to let him add to his body count. Her hand connected with the rifle behind her back. It was lying on the table; she grabbed it up quickly, spinning the rifle around so that the butt of the gun was pointing away from her. She rammed the butt into the back of Layla's head. Layla dropped immediately.

"Carter!" She exclaimed, "What are you doing?" She was asking both as herself and as Tina. _This was not part of any contingency plan they had discussed._

Carter was surprised when his third target fell to the earth. Lisbon, he realized. It had been so long since he had had a partner in any operation, that he was caught by surprise at her interference with his plan. Of course though, Lisbon was too soft-hearted to allow him to kill the woman. _Didn't she realize just how dangerous Layla could be to some other unsuspecting female out there?_

Lisbon stared at the expression on Carter's face. She'd seen it before. Once. On Jane. _How had she missed this?_ She had known that he was vengeful about the death of Violet. But it had been ruled an accident. _What had prompted him to spend so much time and resource convincing himself that Antonio Bloch was responsible for Violet's death?_ Jane was right. Carter had been using her.

He saw the exact moment Lisbon understood what he was doing, and for a few moments he let the guilt and shame wash over him. But it would not stop him from what he had planned. He swung his body to greet Antonio.

Antonio reflected Carter's stance. They were mirror images. Silence descended in the small warehouse.

Jane groaned from somewhere under B2.

Lisbon still held the rifle, an unconscious Layla at her feet. She didn't know who to aim it at, Carter or Antonio. Technically, Antonio hadn't done anything wrong at this particular point in time, nothing that she could arrest him on at least. Carter was the one who was deviating from procedure. Carter was the one who had just killed two men, for no clear reason. If Jane was correct, which was becoming more apparent, then Carter wouldn't stop until Antonio was dead. And it was Lisbon's job to stop that particular kind of retribution. They had laws for a reason, so that the old 'eye for an eye' mentality became obsolete.

"Put the gun down, Tina." Antonio instructed.

"Yes _Tina_," Carter concurred, "Put the gun down. This is between him and me."

Lisbon swallowed. She couldn't do that, but she wouldn't shoot Carter, and she definitely couldn't shoot Antonio. They didn't have adequate evidence to make anything stick to him. He'd walk.

* * *

_So... Carter's gone Terminator in the warehouse._

_But I figure, he's just got his own 'Red John' in his sights, and he's decided it's time. _

_I know it's a slightly awkward place to end the chapter, but it's only going to get worse, and more sticky... I thought, maybe I'll just do the break between the action and the emotion??? I trust you'll agree, mainly because I haven't given you a choice ;)_

_Arc, please review. You make me happy when you do. And we all know a happy author is a faster author ;)  
_


	22. Standoff

_Totally NOT against Texans. Just a quick disclaimer on that one ;)_

Standoff

Jane was pinned. He was pinned to the floor, and while it wasn't wholly uncomfortable, the circumstances under which he was pinned weren't anywhere on his list of preferred means. The second body guard employed by Antonio Bloch had been shot three times by Carter. That man had then, fallen on top of Jane; pinning him to the warehouse's floor. He was out of commission and the current situation within the warehouse was a dangerous one. The only time he'd felt more helpless was when he was opening a door with a somber printed letter taped to it.

He tried not to think about the exact circumstances of his 'pinning' as well. There was a warm liquid oozing across his back. He shuddered. And the halting, fragmented breaths of the man had stopped coming ten seconds ago, about the time Lisbon decommissioned Layla. He'd heard more than saw that happen. His current position allowed him to see Antonio and Carter, if he craned his neck at an odd angle peering out from underneath B2's outstretched arm. He'd tried to look toward Lisbon when he'd realized that she must be holding some sort of weapon toward the two men, but B2's crumpled leg disrupted his view. He was just going to have to trust that she would be all right, and trusting wasn't really his forte.

Jane knew Lisbon wasn't going to set her gun down. He also knew that Carter was in this till the death, the death of Antonio or himself. Jane was a non-entity in this battle, unless of course he managed to become unpinned and caused either Carter or Antonio some trouble. The only problem was that Antonio would have no qualms about killing Lisbon, and that was something that wasn't allowed to happen. Jane didn't like the idea of entrusting her safety to Carter; a man who clearly had his own reasons for including her in this imbecilic escapade. Jane frowned, Carter was extremely selfish. He hadn't needed Lisbon for this; he had just wanted her for it. He could have infiltrated this particular mob without Lisbon's help, and thereby not placing her in danger.

He knew Lisbon was special. But that didn't give Carter the right to _use_ her because of it. He should have more respect for the woman who so clearly loved his deceased wife. Lisbon didn't give up on people; she didn't discard them when the going got tough. It took a lot to make her give up, on anything. He supposed one of the reasons she had such emotional problems with her father stemmed from her inability to give up. She couldn't accept defeat. It just wasn't written into her DNA. She was the eternal optimist, encased in the scarred and wounded body of someone who had to walk through the pessimist's journey. In truth, her early years should have obliterated her optimism, her hope. She wasn't youthful and naïve like Van Pelt. (There being nothing wrong with either of those things) But Lisbon had seen the darkness, survived it, broken its death-grip on her life and had used its bruises and wounds as a catalyst for doing something great. Catching criminals. She was still damaged, but she coped with it. She was an avenger. She stood in the gap of others' pain; she tracked and traced and questioned and put the puzzle pieces back together without the picture on the box, and eventually caught the wrong-doers.

Jane would never have chosen that road, if his wife and child were still alive, he had no doubt. He would still be on television, communing with dead. Taking innocent and misguided peoples' money for profit. Oh, he'd make them feel better about their guilt, their pain, but he would never sympathize with them, he would have no empathy for their loss. He was a projection, a façade, his feelings and emotions were entirely wrapped up in himself, in his family, in his life. Lisbon wasn't like that. Had probably never been like that. Lisbon would have hated him on sight. The only reason she liked him now was because of the shadows lurking beneath his happy exterior. She could spot those shadows at ten paces. That's why she was so frustrated by his games, she knew she wasn't seeing the true him. She didn't accept the obvious lies he was accustomed to dealing.

Lisbon didn't know what to do and she needed to make a decision. Carter was going to try to kill Antonio; Antonio was going to kill Carter simply because he had already killed two of his men. Antonio might kill Jane for his intrusion and subsequently initiating this debacle, but as long as Jane stayed under the dead man he had a pretty good chance of surviving if she or Carter could end this little problem. Antonio would probably try to hurt her too, because of what she'd done to Layla. Layla wasn't dead, she was just unconscious but still, she was the boss' girl. You simply didn't do that. She could see slight movement beneath the second body guard so at least Jane wasn't dead. _Stupid man._ If they made it out of this she'd be confiscating his couch for a month, no, four months. Maybe she'd just shoot him for real this time, instead of threatening it. Not a fatal shot, just a flesh wound. Minelli would probably applaud. But, then she'd have to deal with Grace… that might be more trouble than the satisfaction of shooting Jane would be worth. Grace just didn't understand the way Lisbon needed to deal with Jane.

Carter couldn't spare another glance toward Lisbon. He needed her to put the rifle down so that Antonio would stop considering her a threat. But if she did, then she'd be totally defenseless and Antonio might take advantage of that, try to use Lisbon against him. Would he choose Lisbon over avenging Violet's death? Was it bad he didn't know the answer to that?

Antonio was slightly confused over recent events. One moment Tina's lover had walked around a bunch of boxes; there'd been a slight altercation between husband and lover, one that seemed easily resolved, one he commended. Then Carter had exploited some moves he hadn't known the man had, and his two well-trained and trusted men had been killed. Layla had been her usual jump-in-without-looking self and picked up the machine gun. Hadn't known how to use it, and Carter's girl had jumped in to save her man. Layla would be fine, if a little grouchy later. Antonio couldn't blame Tina for helping out her husband, even if she quite obviously hadn't known what was going on. Antonio was beginning to like Tina, more and more the better he understood her. She was illusively deep, she had knowledge and backbone. She wasn't just a pretty face to adorn Carter's arm. He couldn't stand men whose wives couldn't keep up with the conversation or business directions. Your partner was supposed to be _your partner_ in everything, in anything.

One moment Carter was selling him weapons and the next he was hell-bent on killing everyone in his vicinity, with the exception of his wife. Had he shot Jane? Antonio wasn't sure, but it was a high possibility. Had the man just snapped? He was dangerous, and he knew his guns. They were currently in an old western standoff, all they needed was a clock tower and some tumbleweeds. They'd both instructed Tina to put her weapon down, and she'd ignored them. If he weren't so frustrated by her refusal he'd be impressed by her stubbornness. She'd learn soon enough that what the Boss says goes. As soon as he got Carter to understand the order of things, or dead, he'd be taking Tina under his wing. Layla had decided she was her new girl, and whatever Layla wanted (within his own reasoning) she got. Be it friends, food, clothes, shoes or travel. Layla didn't ask for much, but when she did Antonio wanted to give her the moon. She more than made up for it in other areas.

Carter and Antonio stared at one another. Lisbon couldn't move, she just couldn't decide. They were both armed, and knew how to use their weapons. They were both pointing their weapons at each other; they weren't worried so much about her, and with good reason, it was clear she couldn't decide on the best course of action. Apparently, Antonio hadn't realized they were cops, he merely thought Carter had lost it, not the first time a mob member had gone whacky. For all of her actions, she probably just looked like a devoted wife, which Tina was. She grimaced, stupid Jane. None of this would have bloody well happened if he'd just kept the stupid fricking cat in the bag. What was _wrong_ with him? And then he sneezed! Of all the things she thought might go wrong with this operation she had never thought such a simple involuntary bodily function could cause so much damage. She was definitely, at the very least, hitting him once they got out of this mess.

But what if Jane was right, he, regrettably, often was. If Jane was right, with his theories, about Carter then this confrontation had been planned. Maybe not for today, but at some point; he had probably been planning to get her to leave town under the guise of protecting her. Actually, Carter would be trying to protect her, but if Jane was right, Carter had been using her. Carter was using her so that he could get closer to Antonio, and kill him. Her hands clenched around the slim barrel of the rifle. _How could he do this_?

The pile that was Jane and BodyGuard#2 breathed heavily. Perhaps Jane was trying to get out from under the dead man. That couldn't be pleasant, she thought. If the situation weren't so precarious Lisbon would have gone to his side and pushed the man off of him by now. As it was, she couldn't move without fear of being shot, Antonio would have no qualms about doing that.

Time sped up.

The blinking of her eyes seemed to have an odd strobe effect on the action taking place in the warehouse.

One second Antonio and Carter were stationary. Solitary figures standing proud and tall in the empty expanse of concrete flooring. The next, arms raised, gunshot flares bursting through the air.

She swallowed.

Time slowed down.

She heard a gargled gasp. Whose was it?

Jane's neck was killing him, but the angle from beneath B2's dead arm wasn't really conducive to getting a good look at the gunfight between the two dangerous men.

Carter crumpled to one knee, an ugly farce of proposing marriage.

His handgun skittling across the smooth ground, it stopped its run a few feet away.

Dread filled Lisbon. Carter was shot and Antonio was still standing.

She didn't dare breathe.

A dark laugh filled the undercurrent of air.

It was infused with the gurgle of blood. The sound: disgusting.

A shiver raced Jane's spine; that was truly the sound Red John must have made the night he murdered his family.

Lisbon took a halting step closer, her sneaker rasping.

Antonio fell.

A damning tranquility descended.

She waited; hoping the ability to breathe would come back to her. She didn't know you could forget how to breathe. She'd been in dangerous situations before, when fear threatened to still you, to take you hostage. But it had never overwhelmed her. She'd always been able to take a breath, focus, and move or talk or blink, whatever was required. She remembered those moments clearly.

The smell of pineapple.

A hand reaching for her sidearm only to be disturbed by a gunshot emanating from Jane's position.

Her first on-the-job injury: Gang-banger knifing her across the inside of her forearm, too slow. Shallow, no permanent damage, not even a scar. Instinctive reaction: gunshot to the lower abdomen, slow way to die. Black blood pouring onto the pavement. Her partner pulling the tightly grasped gun from her white-cold hand. A warm palm on the shoulder, whisper: breathe. She hadn't even known she wasn't breathing. Her body hadn't needed to, the shock of being attacked, plus having to shoot to defend herself too much. Her brain quick-firing, running the probabilities, was there any other way? Another outcome? Did she really need to shoot him?

A crazy Texan rancher head butting Cho. Bleached face lying on the asphalt. Immediate reaction: three successive body hits. Handcuffs. Slams the guy into the back of the car. Call ambulance for Cho. Realizes she's been breathing and swearing the whole time, under her breath. Minelli laughing when he hears the story from Taylor. The other cop there, who didn't do anything.

Carter felt the happiness well up from within. He'd done it. He'd finally done it! Violet would be so happy. He ignored the wrenching pain in his stomach. It wasn't the time. He wanted to be sure. Couldn't accept he'd actually killed Antonio. Needed to be sure. Wouldn't want any surprises if he got too excited. He scuffled his way over to the prone man. No breaths. No pulse. Finally. It was over.

He tried to move away from Antonio Bloch, wife killer. Life killer. Found he couldn't, looking down in an odd detachment, realized he'd been shot. Whoops.

Lisbon's unbreathing body finally remembered how to intake oxygen. She sucked in an awkward gasp. Pain wracking her lungs, it felt like dust was caught in there. Somehow she was by Carter's side. He was laid out on his back, eyes sightlessly gaping at the corrugated steel ceiling.

"Carter." She exhaled, kneeling beside him. Hands reaching out to his chest, checking the damage.

"Lisp…Ters…T." He finally said. Too many syllables obviously, hurt too much.

"What did you do, what did you do?" Her vision blurred.

He recognized the early symptoms of shock, his fingers were clammy. Throat parched. Light headed. Losing too much blood. They didn't have their phones, Antonio would have been suspicious. He was going to die here. He found he wasn't too sad at the prospect. The only person he would miss was Lisbon, and she'd be better off without him.

"I did what I had to." He finally responded.

"You're a selfish jerk!" She spat. She thumped his chest in anger. He didn't mind, he knew he deserved it. She wasn't supposed to be here when this happened. She was supposed to hear about his death months later, when his lawyer called her to discuss his will. He'd left her everything.

"Had to… Violet."

"Violet wouldn't have wanted this." She replied. Tears threatening to drop.

"She would have wanted justice for her murder." He wheezed.

"This wasn't justice you idiot." She hissed, "This was you taking the law into your own hands. We're not in one of your idiotic westerns. I'm not the lax Sheriff and you're not the cocky Outlaw."

"Knew you loved watching those movies with me." He replied, grinning through the blood bubbling up from his stomach.

"If you had the chance, for your mother?" He whispered. He was losing his voice; he wouldn't be able to talk much longer.

"It wouldn't change the fact that she's dead." She replied, ignoring his question.

"But you'd feel better."

"Do you feel better?" She asked quietly. Her anger bled out too.

"I feel…" He lifted a hand to caress her jaw; he only managed to hold his hand there for an instant before weakness overtook him. "I feel…tired."

"Forgive me?" He asked after a few moments of silence.

"I don't know if I can." She said honestly. They never lied to one another at least she had thought they didn't.

"Forgive me." He pleaded. For the first time, the pain – he felt it. It was terrible. "Teresa. Forgive me." His voice was suddenly strong, it was imperative that she forgive him. He didn't want to die knowing that she blamed him; blamed him for this, for his death, for his choices.

"I can't." She said broken.

His hands reached for her waist, he couldn't go higher. He was too weak. She smoothed his shirt. She'd long since stopped trying to stem the flow of blood.

"Forgive me." He said, one last time. "Try."

Steel banging against steel. A door.

She flipped her head in the direction of the door; it was the one where they had entered the warehouse. Was that only an hour ago?

"T. for Violet…"

She wanted to say it. She did. She wanted to say she forgave him, for using her, for wasting his life on this pursuit. But she knew Violet would never have wanted this for her husband, for the love of her life. Violet would have been horrified at the man her sweet, courageous, honest husband had become. He fought for the truth and humanitarian ethics, he tried to make the world a better place, he didn't do _this_.

"For Violet, I'll try." She whispered, and she would. She'd try her hardest to forgive him. But she hadn't forgiven her father yet. He was a good man who made a bad choice, and then kept making the same bad choice. She couldn't forgive him for what he had cause within her life, the changes _he_ had made after the world-altering death of her mother.

"I didn't expect it to hurt, so little. Leaving you hurts more. Isn't that strange?" He grinned then, a small boyish smile. The one he used to do when he watched Violet. Not that Lisbon had ever seen it, but Carter knew what it felt like, he hadn't felt that smile in years. He was glad Lisbon would be the last person to see it.

"Strange." She echoed, and watched the light disappear.

* * *

_I have my own personal opinions on retribution, revenge, etc, but those are of course mine and I'm not trying to soapbox anything here. I tried to not make any definitive statements through the characters. I just took what I thought was Lisbon's opinion from how she's portrayed on the show._

_I'd like to know what you guys thing too. Just as a point of interest. _

_Arc, please let me know what you think, this was a strange chapter to write, for obvious reasons.  
_


	23. Aftermath

Aftermath

Van Pelt and Rigsby scrambled from the car, hurrying as quickly as cop-scooting allowed. Cho was calm and resigned, they didn't actually know that Lisbon and Carter and Jane were in any trouble. But it was a bastardized manifestation of Murphy's Law, Cho like to call it 'Jane's Law'. It was the certainty that trouble followed the man around like a stray puppy. And Jane followed Lisbon around like a stray puppy, when he wasn't distracted and excited over fly-away pieces of string like a demented kitten. Cat-dog. That was Jane; half intelligence, half stupidity, loyal to his owner yet trying to be independent. Causing all sorts of trouble; stemming from his enthusiasm and desire to please the master. And yes, Lisbon was Jane's master; Cho knew this well, the sad fact of the matter was that nobody else did.

They waited by the closed door, Cho leaning close to the seam of the door and jam, listening for sounds that might illuminate what was going on in the warehouse. There was silence and a scuffled fall. Suddenly the door opened, Billy came rushing out, blustering past Cho in his confusion. He smacked head on into Rigsby's gut, the man barely reacted. He simply grabbed hold of Billy's shoulders pinning the man between two mighty fists. Van Pelt's admiring gasp putting a wonderful pink shade to his face. Cho grinned on the inside.

He had instinctively grabbed the open door, no need to let it slam shut and warn those inside. He couldn't see past the darkened interior or the massive piles of boxes and crates. Rigsby handcuffed Billy to the side of the car, cautioning him that any attempt to warn the others would be met with as much physical force as was necessary. It was odd how quickly he acquiesced, but there were more important factors to consider. Facts like, why was Billy running from the warehouse? Was Jane dead and if so, by the mob's hands or by Lisbon's? Did Jane blow Carter and Lisbon's cover? Or were they about to intrude upon the weapons buy and ruin everything? Cho didn't want to have to take responsibility for putting Lisbon through insane girlishness for nothing. She'd shoot him or worse_ demote_ him.

He heard an echo of voices. They were commanding, demanding, but it didn't sound like they were being obeyed. Cho waved Rigsby back over, they were going in. he warned Van Pelt and Rigsby to stay behind him and to keep to the shadows of the boxes. At least until they figured out exactly what was going on. He led the way in, cautiously edging around the wooden pallets, brushing his jacket against the plastic-wrapped mountain of cardboard boxes. Van Pelt took the middle, skirting around to the other side of the boxed in maze. Rigsby carefully deposited an item in front of the door to keep it from shutting fully. They didn't want to be trying to exit the building, fumbling in the dark trying to unlatch the door, and dodging bullets. The best strategy was to always be prepared.

Van Pelt thought she had heard someone say _Jerk_. It sounded like a woman. But she wasn't entirely sure, she had at the time just been stepping into the warehouse, and surely Cho or Rigsby would have heard it too? They were slowly easing their way to the middle of the warehouse; hopefully they wouldn't be noticed if the buy was still in session. She saw Cho slowing. She idled next to him, trying to peer over the top of him and through the plastic gaps shielding them from view. She saw a mound of bodies, a table to the far right with what looked like a machine gun lying on the ground. She squeezed closer to Cho, and gasped.

"Everyone's down." She whispered, knowing Cho could hear her perfectly.

His eyes widened, deciding to get up any pretense, he motioned for them to move out from their cover. The door slammed shut. Whatever Rigsby had used to keep the door open must have failed, but at least at this point it didn't matter.

They filed out quickly. They reached the mound of bodies first.

"Dead." Rigsby called, after feeling for a pulse on the unknown male sprawled out in what looked like a highly uncomfortable way. He was wary though, watching for any other signs of life within the warehouse, he'd been at too many crime scenes where it looked like the situation was contained only to have fellow cops fall because the room hadn't been cleared first. Not that they could clear the warehouse, it was too big, and there were only three of them. They already had at least five bodies to be on the lookout for already.

"Mine too," Van Pelt added, she was feeling for life on the second unknown male. He was laid out flat on his back, but she could see the triple tap, knew it must have been Carter of Lisbon who did it. That was a police and armed forces trained shooting mannerism. Something grabbed at the hem of her pant leg. She shrieked.

Rigsby immediately realized he'd made his third mistake of the today. The first being allowing Jane to find the keys to the car at the surveillance house, the second was not securing the door properly, and now he hadn't made sure the body he'd checked for life wasn't concealing anyone else. A hand was now soothing Van Pelt's ankle.

A small voice; "Sorry."

"Jane?" She asked incredulously.

"Little help?" He voice was muffled and he didn't seem to be breathing properly. A large overgrown ape lying on top of you would do that Rigsby supposed.

Rigsby and Van Pelt immediately pushed the unknown male off of Jane. He rolled slightly, smeared more blood than was currently in a dark puddle onto the concrete floor.

"Are you hurt?" Van Pelt asked concerned. She kneeled beside him, checking him quickly for any damage.

"I'm fine. It's all his." Jane said, not quite to his normal chipper attitude. Van Pelt couldn't suppress the frown. Having a dead man fall on you couldn't be pleasant. Jane was already looking around, previous situation forgotten.

"That's not his." She said suddenly, reaching out and grabbing his chin, angling his head so she could see the cut forming on his lower lip, there was a slight swelling around the area too, like he'd been hit.

"Oh, that." He waved a hand dismissively, "A little cover keeping incident…" With some help from Rigsby he was soon standing and looking towards Cho.

Van Pelt and Rigsby had been so occupied by the discovery of Jane that they'd momentarily forgotten about Cho. This was probably why Lisbon was the agent in charge, she never forgot the details.

When he'd first walked into the open area of the warehouse he'd done a cursory look. Another imprint clearing up the image he'd gathered from behind the mountain of boxes. At least three bodies in the middle of the floor, the blood pooling underneath them, letting Cho know there had been quite an interesting fire-fight developing moments before their arrival. He'd seen the empty and abandoned table housing shells, straps and a rifle lying haphazardly on top of the table; a machine gun below it. In the other direction were three figures. He was pretty sure two of those were no longer living.

He'd moved slowly past the first group of people, Van Pelt and Rigsby could take care of them. He reached the other three figures. One was obviously Carter, the man's dark hands contrasting with the grey, blankness of the floor. There was a lot of blood on the ground too; adding a primary color to the monochrome tableau.

The other figure had to be the mob leader, Cho wasn't sure why the weapons buy had boiled down to a gunfight, he just hoped Lisbon wasn't hurt too badly. There was a semi-upright figure beside Carter. When he got closer he realized it was Lisbon. But she was blank. As far as he could tell she wasn't hurt. She was breathing steadily, she wasn't crying or in hysterics, not that he expected her to be but sometimes people surprised you in the way they reacted. He neared her and slowed down considerably. He could hear the others talking behind him, making sure Jane was okay. From the sound of it, he'd been socked one again.

He crouched beside Carter, opposite Lisbon. He leaned over Carter's (dead) body. That bullet hole in his gut wasn't one you walked away from, even if it had happened in the ER of a hospital.

"Boss?" He said quietly, not wanting to startle her too badly. She didn't seem to hear him. He sidled further around, closer to the top of Carter's head, trying to see Lisbon more clearly. Her hands were resting on Carter's bloody torso. She seemed frozen.

"Lisbon?" He asked, "Can you hear me?" It seemed like the most idiotic question he had ever asked, but it was necessary. He truly believed she may not be able to hear him.

As he looked at her intently he noticed more aberrant features. Her eyes were open but they were dull, not frozen or dead, simply uninteresting. He didn't think he'd ever seen her so expressionless. Her cheek had a bloody image of a palm on it. It was disturbing. It was so perfectly recreated. He convinced himself it was merely red paint, a strange tribal ritual she'd had to undergo to get into the warehouse. He couldn't abide the thought that the lasting remnant of Agent Carter was a hand print on her face.

He turned to see the three other team members standing in a row behind him. They were still and silent; waiting for Lisbon's orders. None were coming.

"Lisbon. I need you to look at me. You have to move. Do you understand?" He gazed at her piercingly. He kept his voice soft, but if she didn't respond soon he was going to try ordering her.

"Rigsby, call it in." He ordered, looking back toward the trio. They had a crime scene here that needed to be processed. For once Jane wasn't causing any problems and Cho was too concerned about Lisbon to worry about that.

Van Pelt was in shock. She'd seen Lisbon at a weak point before, distracted and struggling, but she'd never seen this. Lisbon was gone; there was just a husk left over. A woman who looked like her boss sitting next to a dead man; a puddle of red ink around them.

Where did you go? Jane asked silently. Waiting, watching, biding his time for the right moment. He never did get many moments right where Lisbon was concerned. She was too instinctive where his machinations were concerned. It's what he liked about her. The instinctual facts she gathered, the things she figured out him, the way she could be laughing and teasing one moment and deadly serious the next. She adapted to his moods with little effort, as if she were used to the changing tides of pain; which, now that he thought about it, she was.

Cho stood slowly, so he wouldn't disturb Lisbon. Not that Jane thought a lot would at this point in time. He moved over to Van Pelt, shrugging awkwardly. Van Pelt looked equally worried and unsure. Jane knew why Lisbon was so vacated. At least, he thought he might have an idea why. But he knew she wouldn't appreciate an audience. When he turned to Van Pelt and Cho to make some petty comment to get them to shove off, they seemed to already know what he was thinking. They left of their own accord.

"Lisbon?" Jane said; walking up behind her and crouching next to her, so that Carter was on the other side of where she was sitting. "He's not coming back."

She did not answer.

"You're not this person Lisbon. You're stronger than this." He said strongly, knowing everything he said was true. He was the staring vacantly person, the one who shut out the truth and escaped, not her. She didn't back down or away from anyone or anything. It was probably another reason she dug in when he got placed on her team. She didn't like to fail.

She didn't react.

He sighed, "I could hypnotize you." He expected something with that remark, but again – nothing.

"I could pick you up and carry you out of here."

Nothing.

"I could kiss you."

Her eyes moved; fractionally downward. Something then.

"Was that a yes or a no?" He asked; a forced jovialness.

Her eyes did not move again.

Inspiration struck. "Tell me about the dream."

He hoped she would react, even to tell him to stuff it.

"You said the sky was pink… what else?"

Silence again.

"And then it was brown. You know what that means right? Some important event changed things."

Her chin lifted fractionally. He was reaching her.

"What else?" He prompted, dearly wishing to just hypnotize her out it, but she would never forgive him and he'd already promised himself that he wouldn't do it again, especially without her permission.

"What about the sun? Was it golden?"

"Blue." She whispered, her lips breaking through the parched restraint.

"The sun was blue?"

"Indigo." She added.

Jane paused, he settled in for the long haul. She was answering his questions but she didn't seem to be paying attention. He'd had to work slowly. Maybe before the other agents and cops arrived he'd have her far enough out, of wherever she was, to get her to leave Carter.

"Blue means truth, wisdom… loyalty." He added. "What then?"

"Red."

"Red?"

"It turned red."

Red was obvious; aggression, danger, a deep emotional connection.

"Okay." He affected a pleased nature. He wasn't liking the way her dream was sounding; especially since he had caused her to have it in the first place. No wonder she had been so disconcerted when she woke up.

"What else was in your dream Lisbon?"

"House."

"And…"

"Burning."

"Can you give me more than one word descriptions?" He was still whispering. Cho and Rigsby were outside waiting for the teams that were on their way. He supposed Billy and Layla were in custody. Van Pelt was watching them carefully. Giving Lisbon the space she needed.

"The sun… turned blue… fell on the house. It burned." She wasn't connecting with the emotion of the dream, but at least her vocabulary facilities were coming back. That was a start.

Jane tried to ignore the blood on her face. He stared into her eyes, waiting for the moment they would become clear again. He missed it. Missed her, whatever it was that made her unique, he wanted it back. He hated Carter even more for taking Lisbon away.

"Was anyone in the house?"

"Yes."

"Who?"

She didn't answer.

"Lisbon, who was in the house?"

She looked down at Carter for the first time since he had died.

"Was Carter in the house?"

"No." She whispered.

Suddenly he knew, and he didn't have any reason why he should. No observation or body movement he could blame, he just knew.

"Was it Violet?"

She shuddered slightly, her eyes fluttered closed. Her body leaned forward a few centimeters. She was back.

Lisbon took an amazing breath in. And stood.

She swallowed casting a glance around the warehouse.

She stood waiting, but she didn't know for what.

"Lisbon?" Jane said quietly, standing vertically to her horizontal.

She didn't turn to him, as she normally would but at least she acknowledged him.

"I'd like to go home now." It wasn't Agent Lisbon's voice and it surely wasn't Lisbon the friend, or Lisbon the woman. He didn't know quite who this voice belonged to, but if she wanted to leave, he was going to obey her request.

"Certainly, my dear." He corralled her with his arms, not touching her but herding her toward the outside.

Van Pelt breathed a shaky sigh of release when she saw Lisbon start to move outside. Unfortunately she wouldn't be allowed to actually go home until the crime scene guys had taken pictures of her and confiscated her clothes. But Van Pelt knew she could speed the process up, the dead bodies weren't going anywhere. She refused to give those poor people names anymore; it would interfere with her work. Once the scene was taken care of, then she could revert to their proper names, but not when their bodies were in that room. It was too much for her emotional side to handle.

It was roughly fifteen minutes before the reinforcements arrived. Jane got more tense with every passing minute, they all noticed but knew mentioning it wouldn't be helpful. Jane wouldn't relax until Lisbon did, she wouldn't relax until they got her home and even then, they weren't sure what her decompression ritual was.

Cho was relieved when the teams finally arrived. It meant within another half hour he could send Lisbon and Jane home. He, Van Pelt and Rigsby would need to remain to oversee the site, but everything else could be clarified tomorrow. He looked them over once more. Jane was hovering unusually, he kept casting furtive glances toward Lisbon, and she was oblivious. That was the worst part. She was usually so in tune with him, she understood him better than the rest of the team put together, and she would know when he was planning something and most especially knew when he was watching her. At least, she had grown into knowing, Cho remembered the early days when she had been almost oblivious to Jane's stares. Almost by their first solo (the two of them alone) car ride, their relationship had changed, an extra element of awareness had seeped in. It was interesting for Cho to see the development.

Cho hoped Jane could get her back to some sort of normal by the next morning. He didn't want to have to try and debrief either of them when she was like this… whatever _this_ was.

* * *

_This turned out so differently than what I had planned, but I went with it. Different does not necessarily mean bad, right? _

_I also made a reference to CatDog here, and just in case no one is familiar, I'm going to do a quick recap._

_CatDog was an animated tv series about (freakily) the life and crazy habits of conjoined un-identical brothers, who were a cat and a dog, hence the name ;) _

_Dog was the loyal, overly enthusiastic and quite probably a lot stupid dog-half, Cat was the intelligent, devious (Brain to the Pinky) cat-half, he was always making up crazy plans to overthrow the bullying dog pack that harassed them. It was pretty much The Odd-Couple in animated animal conjoined form._

_It was pretty self-explanatory in Cho's thoughts but you know, I like the be thorough._

_Thanks for reading, sadly this is almost over..._

_Yay for me, not so much for all my lovely readers._

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	24. The Sleeping Wake

_I'm so sorry this is late!!!! :(_

_It kept not feeling right, and I kept fiddling and humming and awing, I must have read it a dozen times over - more than the usual. _

_I needed to get the tone right, so many emotions and situations, and complications, drawing in threads from all over._

_I think I got it right, though. You decide._

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The Sleeping Wake

Jane hovered. And for the first time since the moment she met the man, Teresa Lisbon wasn't trying to get him to go away. That much at least told Cho and Rigsby and Van Pelt that something was seriously wrong with their beloved boss. The other cops and agents and ambulances had arrived shortly after Jane had managed to wrangle Lisbon out of the warehouse. She was currently sitting in the back of an ambulance getting her photo taken; getting multiple photos taken. They needed shots of her before she took the evidence off of her body.

The attendant was very careful, he wasn't making any fast movements and he always explained what he was going to do before he did it. Not that it seemed to matter, Lisbon wasn't really responding. Jane was standing behind the man watching everything like an abnormally large and gray suited hawk. Lisbon had regressed slightly. She wasn't talking anymore but at least her eyes were following the man's movements, so Jane knew she was slowly coming out that strange catatonic-like state she'd been in.

The attendant swabbed the woman's hands, he knew she was an undercover agent, he'd heard one of the agents saying something bad must have gone down for _her_ to react this way. Apparently the diminutive brunette was well-respected for her strength and kick-ass-ability. He shuddered to think of what he was going to find when he eventually went into the warehouse. He'd already heard from his partner that there were multiple bodies. He asked her to turn her head to the right so he could get a wide-angle photograph of the hand print on her cheek. She didn't seem to comprehend what he was saying. He thought about tilting her chin himself, but didn't know how well she'd react. He looked helplessly at the man behind his shoulder.

"Lisbon. Look at me." The man said. His low voice oddly calming.

She looked at him, slowly. Her head moving before her eyes did.

"I'm going to take a photo now? Alright?" He said, easing the camera up, so she had time to recognize it.

He took the photo, checked the resolution and nodded, "Great. Thank you. Ah, now I'm going to need your clothes."

"Can't that wait until she gets to the hospital?" He heard a woman ask him. He turned quickly and saw a tall, beautiful woman staring concernedly at 'Lisbon'.

"No. Hospital." Lisbon said suddenly. Her voice strong. He was surprised, he had seen many traumatized victims before, and none of those had ever had voices that so bespoke of strength and resilience. Those were aspects of a person's character that needed to be grown, developed. Just what else had this woman been through?

The blond hawk and the beautiful one looked at each other, speaking with unspoken understanding.

"Okay. Boss. No hospital, but that means Jane's going to have to take you home. And that you'll have to get changed in the back of this ambulance, so we can give the CS guys your clothes." She said. Speaking softly, like you would a small child.

"Okay." She replied shakily; hands reaching for the hem of her shirt.

"Whoa!" The man who must be Jane cried. "Wait, wait. Let's find you some clothes to get changed into first." He nodded at the woman, who left and returned later with overalls procured from the CS guys. She had another too, for Jane. His suit was a mess of blood as well, but he had made it quite clear that it was from the time he had spent under one of the dead bodies. Van Pelt and Rigsby had had to explain to the Crime Scene guys what exactly they'd had to change to get Jane out.

Time passed.

It must have, she thought. For she was at her apartment, and Jane was unlocking her front door dressed in very unusual clothes. As he gently pushed the door open she looked down and noticed she was wearing an identical suit too. Crime scene overalls, she noted. Thoughts petitioned her mind's barrier, she pushed them back, waiting for the tidal flow to ebb. She didn't want to think about this now or at all really, she simply wanted to sleep, to ignore.

She was being led to the bathroom now. Jane fussing with an odd air about her bathroom, he moved her, gently forcing her to sit down, when had he got so comfortable touching her? For that matter when had she allowed him to? Abruptly she was in another bathroom, sitting, talking to Carter in hushed voices, arguing, explaining, danger.

Heart clenches painfully – push the memory away.

He had just finished filling the sink with warm water when he noticed a difference in Lisbon. She was tenser, on edge, wary. She'd been looking around the house, acting more amenable to his careful maneuvering of her. He enjoyed the contact with her, tactilely reminding himself that she was alive and safe. Carter's vengeance hadn't cost her her life. He realized that she was uncomfortable in the bathroom, so he diligently moved her to the next room.

She was sitting on something soft, but not squishy, it was firm and comfortable and smelled of peace and calm. The colors were comfortable, loving, safe; she was in her bedroom. When had that happened?

Jane returned quickly with the face washer and a bowl of warm water. Her hands were covered in blood, and the disturbing remnant of Carter's affection still tainted her cheek. He started with her hands, hoping not to worry her greatly. She didn't seem to notice much. He was careful and deliberate, gently running the wet cloth over her hands, her fingers, her palms. He did one hand at a time, caressing them, studying them. Little hands, he knew, but he'd never sat and really looked at them before. They were delicate, almost too small for the hands of a feisty, hard-nosed cop who could tackle men twice or thrice her size. She was diminutive but deviously deceptive. He kind of loved that about her. He'd finished both hands now, and needed to move onto her face. But he'd been studiously avoiding looking at her, he'd didn't want to have to deal with the silence and the blankness, that was one thing he never wanted to see in Teresa Lisbon. The death blank stare.

_His wife had died with her eyes forced open, one of those tidbits of knowledge only a personal connection with Red John afforded._

When his hand cupped her other jaw, he watched in fascination as her eyes fluttered closed. As if, the very touch of his skin brought her comfort. He cleansed the washcloth, bringing it up to her cheek… slowly; he tilted her face away from him. He ran the cloth down her cheek, cheekbone to jaw, smearing the hand print slightly. He wanted to wash away every mark that Carter had left on her; when he had gotten most of the mess off of her face, he proceeded to clean up the very last vestiges of blood.

He dabbed carefully at the stain. Slowly, deliberately, with great care, he poured his affection into his movements; all those words he couldn't say, all those thoughts he couldn't share, all those worries and jokes and insecurities that always seemed to come out wrong. Not wrong, but not the way he intended them to… what exactly was it that he wanted with Lisbon? His mind could never decide, so he'd flirt, then tease or shock or provoke, then apologize or grin idiotically and with what he hoped was an air of child-likeness that no one could refuse. Although she steadfastly tried to and oftentimes succeeded. He just couldn't make up his mind, no wonder she didn't trust him, even he didn't know what he wanted. She should be confused about his motivations, he sure was.

Lisbon wasn't thinking anything in particular. She was in fact trying extremely hard not to think anything at all. Her best friend's husband had, essentially, just committed three acts of murder and, what amounted to, suicide-by-cop, but in this instance was more suicide-by-mobster. She wanted to be able to say it, to say 'he's dead' but the words wouldn't come. They were stuck in some damn traffic jam, backed up on highway 81, in her throat. She blinked, and found it hurt. The only relief seemed to be coming from a warm, caring hand and a single thumb that was caressing her jaw. It took her a moment to realize who it was.

She tried to say his name… she tried to say 'Jane', just to garner his attention. Her lips moved, but her tongue was the Gobi desert, her teeth became The Great Wall of China, holding her words in, and keeping Jane locked out like Mongolia and Genghis Khan.

"Hmm, yes?" He answered.

Had he known she was trying to say his name?

_I need_… she tried, but to no avail. Still the words would not come.

"Yes, Teresa?" He said, her name lulling her further into the dreamless state.

_Sleep_.

"No, that's not a good idea Lisbon. You have to deal with this. Accept it." He knew it was harsh, she only wanted to escape. But he'd tried that, he knew what a demented dungeon that place could take you, it broke you, in a stranger sense than normal. It wasn't a break of normal proportions. It wasn't a shard of glass from a broken mirror that you could piece back together like a fragmented jigsaw puzzle. It was a brokenness of asteroids, a clump of dead rock in space, forever expanding through the freezing wasteland of universe, dull and lifeless motes spreading throughout the galaxy with no hope of restoration. You didn't recover from that. If you let sanity slip through your fingers you had to have something strong to bring you back, that's why so many people didn't make it.

Jane had been lucky, he had revenge and an alive Red John to murder, and now he has Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt too, his three opposite-Musketeers following his unbalanced d'Artagnon in a backwards interpretation of that famous story. But Lisbon… oh, Lisbon; she is different, at first, merely another toll on the highway to Red John's death. Then the intriguing, intelligent, blushing and undeniably soft-hearted Agent, who had somehow decided to take him under her wing. Friend, then confidante. Knower of the evil tendencies in his heart, and yet, she still stands by him, hoping to be beside him that day when he walks the edge of the cliff with Red John. That day not too far off now when he will push Red John over, and hope not to fall too, and he knows that she will try with all her might and power and resource to be there, at his side, in the hope that she will be quick enough to grab hold of his coat and to drag him back onto solid ground, away from the cliff and the consequences should he fall into that abyss.

Jane's telling her she can't sleep. But she wants to, so dearly. She glances at the clock, the one that wakes her up every morning; it's not even four pm. She finds she doesn't care. She wants to lie down. She eases herself backwards, lying on her bed. It feels awkward, probably because she hasn't actually been back to her apartment since that day, over a week ago now, where Carter walked into the office behind Minelli and asked her to marry him. Her heart clenches again, she doesn't want to think about this, not right now, maybe a little later. She closes her eyes and breathes through the blinding pain. She's had to kill people before, watch them die before her eyes, why is this taking such a toll? An emotional toll more difficult to bear than the knowledge of simply (if you could call it simple) taking another's life… is it because she knew Carter, had a friendship with him? It's not as if she killed him, but she did have to watch him die, speak his last words, promise him something she wasn't sure she could do. Is it because she loves, loved him so much that it hurts this way? Probably, she concedes, before opening her eyes to find Jane.

He's still sitting at the foot of her bed, watching her intently, dark eyes never leaving her face.

He can't believe she's giving up, refusing to try. This is not the Lisbon he knows. The Lisbon he wants.

She blinks up at him, and lifts her arm, her hand reaching out toward him.

It's unclear what she wants, but its Lisbon, it can't be too hard to figure out. At any rate, it wouldn't matter, he finds he wants to give her anything she wants, anything she can ask for, and everything he knows she never will.

He grasps her hand and she tugs him toward her; pulling him over to the other side of the bed. She's not satisfied till he's lying beside her.

He waits for further instruction, none comes.

She closes her eyes and breathes again, surprised at how much easier it is with him beside her.

He waits like this indefinitely. He's so focused on Lisbon that he doesn't notice the passage of time, or the light leaving the room. He notices when her breathing evens out and some semblance of sleep overcomes her. It isn't what he wanted for her. He wants her to be strong, to deal with the pain, to begin the process of grief. But he finds he can't begrudge her the opportunity to stave off the wound. Carter only died a few hours ago…

His phone rings. It's Van Pelt. The Jones' home has just burned down. Apparently in all the rush and focus on Carter and Lisbon, they'd forgotten about Layla (another reason why Lisbon is the Boss). One of the agencies Carter worked for have retaken the case, all their paperwork is gone, and it's like they never worked it in the first place. The only record they'll ever have of the operation having taken place will be their emotional and mental scars. None of them even have wounds to show for it, unless you count Jane's split lip, which no one will.

He returns to Lisbon's bedroom to find her in the middle of a nightmare. She wakes up suddenly, no gasps or film-like sit ups, only startled eyes opening and a breathy sigh. She rolls to the side and seems disappointed to find the bed empty. She doesn't realize Jane is by the doorway watching.

"Phone call." He states softly, allowing her to make the next decision. He wonders how the light slumber has affected her condition, he hopes, even if selfishly, that she is better. He's the broken one, it was never meant to be her.

"He turns into a statue." She says, confusing him, her voice rasping.

"Who?"

"Carter… in my dream." Her voice is normal again, and he supposes he should be thankful, but even she should need more of a breakdown than that odd attempt to sleep off the grief.

"Oh." He says, because he lacks the insight to continue this avenue of dialogue.

"So do you." She adds, astounding him further.

"I'm in the dream too?" He sits at the edge of her bed again, not wanting to encroach on her personal space as she lets in him emotionally.

"You both get stuck, when the sun turns red. I can't help you, either of you."

He knows what the dream was telling her, that she takes on other people's problems; that she's going to lose herself in them. That for her own good she should have excised Carter from her life. But what he hadn't thought of too much was the extent to which he relies on her. The places he'd wormed his way into, the trust, however meager, she places in him. She tried to help Carter, just like she tries to help him; neither of them acknowledging just how much they need her to feel human, to feel alive.

"How does it end? Your dream?" He asks, not entirely sure he wishes to know.

"I don't remember." She lies, and he lets her, for now.

* * *

_So... what do you think?_

_I'm rather nervous, actually._

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	25. When you don't know what to do

_I thought this was going to be the last chapter, and then it wasn't. So lucky you. You get more time to prepare for the end of my fic!!! :)_

_I just couldn't get the chapters to track with the change of pace and emotion, and then it ran really, really, really, really, long...

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When you don't know what to do…

It becomes clear to Jane that Lisbon has had enough of talking about her dream, her nightmare. A premonition now, he realizes; if you want to believe in that. In her dream, Carter became a statue, because she tried to help him, a futile effort. You can't help someone bent on revenge; it's one of those things that are either singular or national. Everyone needs to feel the pain and agree on the act of vengeance or only one and everyone else ruins their life trying to stop it. She remains silent, if she wants to talk she will. This isn't the time to prod her, even Jane listens to common sense sometimes.

She's staring at the roof, surprised by its blandness. Has she ever just looked at it before? Perhaps she should paint it, an interesting pattern, or motif, perhaps a mural. Subconsciously she runs her hands up her sides, the weird material shocks her. What is she wearing?

She looks down surprised. Jane is still sitting at the end of the bed, watching her carefully.

She squints in the darkness, looking at Jane. He's wearing overalls too. She remembers Van Pelt telling her she needs to exchange clothes, trace. She licks her lips, realizing she hasn't eaten or drank anything in over twelve hours, since breakfast.

"Could you get me some water?" She asks.

Jane jumps up in surprise, "Of course." It stuns him that he hasn't thought of it before. He leaves her bedroom, walking the short hallway to the kitchen.

She goes back to pondering her clothing, eventually she gets up off the bed. She feels slightly shaky, knowing that she's coming to the end of her denial rope. She's quite sure Jane thinks she's in denial over her attraction to him. She's not. She knows. Van Pelt too for that matter, that stupid, awkward conversation they'd had in the park, about Jane still being married, that pitiful excuse for changing the subject. Well, no, she was telling the truth. Jane is still married. Death is the end of a life, not a relationship. But steadily, Jane has been changing. He stills loves his wife, Lisbon would never want him not to, but there's room in his heart now, even if he doesn't consciously realize. But he's been so jealous, Van Pelt was the first to notice, she must have been. Rigsby isn't the type to realize that another man is jealous over a woman, unless it's Van Pelt. Lisbon smiles softly at that, those two are so sweet. Eventually it's going to be down to her to prod them together. Jane's too vocal, too pushy, they resist simply because it's Jane doing the prodding. One day, she's going to make sure they do something about their attraction.

Cho probably knows, at the very lest he notices. Cho's like that. But he would never say anything or do anything about it. He doesn't interfere, he's just there, steady like the kiln on a boat, directing, guiding but never interfering in the journey. That's someone else's job. So of course it would have fallen to Van Pelt to tell Lisbon that Jane was acting jealously. The thing was Lisbon has always known there was something between them. Just because she had decided to ignore and suppress the knowledge doesn't mean she ignorant of the fact.

She was thinking about these things as she stripped out of the mass-produced overalls, they're rather basic and now that she thinks about it, particularly itchy. She unclips her bra, flinging it into the clothes basket in the corner, kicking the overalls off her feet too. They fling wildly into the corner of the room. She has a moment of panic when she realizes that Jane could come back at any moment, she forgoes stripping down completely and quickly throws on an old t-shirt. She's lucky, she notices, when she turns around and finds Jane is standing there armed with two cups; one glass, one mug. He didn't see anything she decides, he's not making any idiotic and undeniably attractive quips about her body or lack of clothing. She likes that he can force her to feel emotion, to feel attractive, desirable, as if it's a given, a constant in this life, something that comes as easily to her as breathing. She's never truly felt that before, with no strings attached. Jane makes her feel a weird conglomeration of acceptance, embarrassment and flattery.

Jane had wondered what she might be doing while he was organizing her water and a tea for himself. He wanted to give her a few moments of privacy; it seemed as if she wanted to get out of her borrowed clothes. He hadn't expected to walk in on a partially naked Lisbon back, stretching enticingly. He swallowed a nervous gulp. Quickly cleared his facial expressions and moved forward into the room. She turned and accepted the glass.

"Thanks." She said softly.

That was the last word he heard from her for two days.

It wasn't as if she was deliberately trying to avoid him, or to not talk to him. She didn't try to get him to leave her house; she didn't call a cab and wait for him to enter it. She didn't even greet the team, other than a smile, when they came over on the second day to see how she was doing. She simply stopped talking. And he knew, she hadn't cried yet. It was like, by not talking, she was mourning. She rarely smiled, she didn't get annoyed, she didn't sigh in frustration. Jane was starting to contemplate ways to embarrass her just so she'd get flustered and he'd know she was still alive, still in there somewhere.

Van Pelt, Rigsby and Cho had come over when he called them. They had been worried on the first day, but Jane had been adamant that they give her the opportunity to pull herself out of this silent hole she had placed herself in. It was the dawn of the third day now, and even Jane had to admit, this wasn't right. He just needed her to say something, anything, and she wasn't. He'd sat her down and told her he'd needed her to say something. A word, a sentence, a little bit of a step in the right direction; just so he wouldn't have to call the shrinks in, and he knew how much she hated that. She hadn't even blinked. Just looked at him serenely, sipped some more of her raspberry cordial and went back to reading the newspaper.

The five of them were sitting in Lisbon's living room, camped out in various tension-filled positions on her couch. Well, Van Pelt, Rigsby and Cho were tension-filled, Lisbon seemed utterly relaxed, except for the non-talking, and Jane looked relaxed anywhere. Besides, Jane had been practically living at Lisbon's since the shooting. He'd gone home for a couple of hours to pack, and when he'd returned, Lisbon had been in a worse state than before. He'd found her underneath her bed, it was one of those older slat-based double-beds, she was staring up at the slats, running her fingers over them, pushing the wood up into the mattress, seeming to get some sort of consolation from their heavy resistance. He'd vowed not to leave her alone again. Until she was better.

It was so quiet. Van Pelt didn't know how Jane could stand to stay here. Isn't that why he fell asleep so often in the office? He needed noise.

Cho had a healthy appreciation for silence. Appropriate silence, but this wasn't it. This was the wrong sort of silence. This was the silence car accident victims heard the moments before conscious came fully back. Those few indefinable moments where the horror, and the pain, the lights and the heat or the cold, the darkness or the light hadn't invaded consciousness. Hadn't invaded those sleepy dream-times where truth wasn't known or cared about. Where reality didn't matter, but those moments, they weren't supposed to last, to drag on and create extended uncomfortableness. Lisbon wasn't still supposed to be dwelling there. That's what was wrong, she was still in that dream-time, in that awake-sleep, and she needed to wake up. But you can wake up a sleep-walker or in this case a sleep-waker.

Rigsby's large frame overwhelmed Lisbon's couch, and if she could feel anything, she'd probably have found it amusing. As it was, it remained an odd sight. She knew should feel something, some kind of gratefulness or sense of family, that her team thought enough of her, loved her enough, to come and hang out with the catatonic, non-speaking wraith that used to be Teresa Lisbon. But she couldn't, she couldn't even wholly be angry at herself for her pitiful non-reactions. Sleep didn't help, not-eating didn't help. Nothing helped. When would this blanket of nothingness go away? Maybe she needed to get out of the house? Yes, that might be it, go outside, see the day… seize the day. Do something unremarkable but wholly wonderful in its simplicity. If only she could recognize something like that once she got outside.

She stood, pausing at the front door, to slip some shoes on.

The team watched in astonishment as Lisbon moved. She hadn't moved from her seat for an age. Jane knew it had been five hours. At least today he had managed to talk her into getting reasonably dressed. For the first day afterward, she had remained in that shirt, the one that fell to mid-calf and left him trying to avoid looking at her legs for hours on end. He just wasn't used to seeing Lisbon legs, they kept reminding him of what else they were connected to as well, he would have flashbacks to seeing her back, in the muted, elegant colors of the bedroom.

She was padding down the pathway to the street when he finally made a decision.

"Okay. I'm going to follow her. Make sure she doesn't do anything too crazy. You can stay here, and wait, or…" He didn't want to outright tell them to leave. They had every right to stay at Lisbon's house and hope she came back to them alright, but he knew waiting around in an empty house wasn't exactly the most comfortable arrangement.

"No. We'll go. Let her know we'll come by..." Van Pelt decided for the three of them. Jane nodded thankfully. It actually made looking after Lisbon easier if he didn't have to worry about what they would think of her state of mind. The mind was a delicate thing, he knew, sometimes it healed itself when you didn't have thirty people watching you intently. Sometimes you just needed the time to go a little crazy, a little off the wall. Lisbon deserved the chance to get the weird out.

Lisbon followed the small path, the small, concrete, pristine path. She wondered who trimmed the edges, the grass was very neat. She kept following the path, hoping that whatever worked for Dorothy and the Scarecrow, and the Tinman and the Lion, would work for her to. But she wasn't trying to get home or to the Emerald City, there was no wizard who could give her back what she had lost. She didn't even know what she had lost. It was a beautiful thought though, that somewhere, out there, was a man, a wizard, who held the power to give you a new heart, or brain, or courage, who could find the way home for you. She'd take Jane with her, if he existed. She didn't know what Jane needed. He had a heart, it was wounded, possibly broken, but it would be horrendous to try and give him a new one. It would diminish what he had with his wife and daughter to try and replace them.

Jane followed her at a respectable distance; she didn't seem to know where she was going. But she was at ease. Maybe she was thinking about important things, or nothing at all, as long as she was alright, that's all that mattered. Lisbon had to be alright, she had to be well, unhurt, able to overcome. That's all he wanted right now, Red John could wait.

She stopped on the precipice of a park. It looked familiar. Did she used to run here? It was peaceful.

She moved toward a low bench, sitting down carefully, as if she had forgotten how to trust her body to do what her mind wanted it to. He sat beside her, gently easing his way into her vision.

They stayed that way for a few minutes.

Then she spoke.

"I don't want to go back." Meaning the house, of course.

Jane paused; he wanted them to talk about what they'd been avoiding. He wanted her to deal with the problem but if she couldn't, he just wanted the old Lisbon to return. Even if it was a lie.

"Are you coming back soon?" He inquired.

"Yeah, home soon." She responded with a sigh, almost disappointed that Jane had suddenly become the responsible one.

"No. Are _you_ coming back soon?"

She actually turned to look at him. He almost smiled.

She bit her bottom lip, brow frowning, thinking hard.

Jane didn't even think, his hand moved of its own accord, reaching out to breach the distance between them. His thumb pulling the worried lip from the catchment of her teeth, his skin resonated with the memory of the quarter kiss. He wondered if he would ever taste the dollar.

It was something less than static, but not quite alive. Soothing memory, life, remembrance. She didn't want to remain this way, perhaps it was time. She didn't want to become a statue either, she didn't want to be locked in some horrific tableau forever entrenched in the unending gaze of a burning house, loved ones trapped beneath, the wildflower fields rotting away under her feet. She wanted to reach that happy house, at the end of her life, fulfilled, awake, joyful, her life lived.

A thought came to her. A strange, odd thought. She knew she should probably be embarrassed by the images and emotions that accompanied it, but she wasn't, and she wouldn't allow herself not to take the moment and make it real. First things first, though, a little damage control.

"Can I do something? Try something?" She asked. The slight park wind dragging the words from her lips past Jane's ears.

"Yes." He replied, grateful for anything.

"You won't… make it bigger, than what it is?" She added.

He cocked his head to the side. He couldn't read her, couldn't figure out what she was asking.

"How would I make it bigger?" He eventually asked when it became clear she wasn't going to try it, whatever it was, until she got the answer she wanted.

"Just, let it be." Echoing The Beatles.

He watched her face intently, "Okay." He breathed, whatever she wanted he would give it to her, if only so he could have her back. His Lisbon. Not the Carter-destroyed Lisbon.

He turned to face her fully, perching awkwardly on the wooden bench.

She closed her eyes.

A careful hand reached upwards, fingers dragging across his shaven jaw. Her thumb soothed his cheek, her eyes open now. Thinking.

He froze, not a stiff, paralyzed freeze, more a careful, deliberate waiting. What would she do next? Where was she going with this? What was she trying to achieve?

She shifted forward. A quick look into his eyes, he gazed back patiently. Another quick look, eyes shifting right to left, gauging his stillness.

He must have blinked, it was the only explanation. One moment Lisbon's face was in front of him, watching him intently, and the next, cold lips were melting into his.

It wasn't chaste, it wasn't passionate. It was a kiss unlike any he was used to, it was a looking kiss. A kiss to look; not to search, searching implied knowing at least in some way what you were looking for. This kiss wasn't like that. This kiss had no ulterior motive. It was almost… an experiment, lacking emotion. That wouldn't do.

Remembering that kiss in the park, Jane would say he didn't quite know why he changed it. Why or where the impulse came from to deepen the kiss, to change it. He'd joke about it, say he intended it, all lies. His analytical mind shut down and another part of him, one he had almost forgotten took over. He would suppose it was because, during the undercover operation, those feelings and unknowable emotions had been so close to the surface. His inherent mistrust of Carter, the revenge vendetta that he just knew would end up with Lisbon hurt, the way his eyes couldn't ever leave Lisbon alone. The way he hated Tina because she was everything false about Lisbon, they way her laugh would sparkle but wouldn't ring true, the gorgeous light of her eyes that didn't come from him, but from Carter, and then the way Carter's death stole from her.

Later, he would realize, that his platonic, teasing, possessive emotions regarding Lisbon weren't all that platonic. That he was disguising his desire by thrusting her away. By consciously embarrassing her, but even then, he would eventually realize, he chose methods that prodded her, caused her to notice the attraction between them. Why did he do that? Why had he chosen _her_ of all people to try to piece him back together? Wrap his heart in a ribbon; hold the jagged shards together with commitment and strength?

But at the time, in the park, face engulfed in one of her little hands, wind swirling behind them, so reminiscent of the pier, he moved his hands from their stationary positions. They rose, grasping the back of her head, her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail, his nimble fingers let it out.

She let out a soft breathe of surprise. It didn't even make him pause. His right hand began to knead the back of her neck, letting out some of the tension she was holding in her back. Later, if she'd let him, he'd try to talk her into a massage. Not necessarily by him (although that would be nice) but because he knew she needed to decompress. She needed to release the things she was holding inside.

Soft lips, warming up. Mingled breathe, sweet sucks. Dexterous fingers, relaxing feel.

It wasn't a long kiss, not by anyone's standards. But it was, exactly what she needed. She tried to pull back twice before Jane finally let her. She smiled into this shirt, burying her head into his collar. Suddenly tears sprang to her eyes. _Carter_, her heart wrenched out. He was gone.

Her sobbing started out softly, hiccuping faint noises that only he could hear, and mostly feel. It grew louder and she clung to him. He wrapped his arms around her small frame. A mix of happiness and grief enveloping him as he tried to soothe her distress; thankful, finally, that her pain was coming out.

She didn't stop for three hours; even the walk home was punctuated by her sobs and tears.

The rest of the team had left, for which they were both grateful. Jane couldn't seem to drag up the effort to be flighty, to revel in inconsequence. He needed this to mean something.

* * *

_Yeah, so kind of an ambiguous chapter... what does it mean? And all that... :)_

_I liked this though, the weird feeling in it, the not-quite-sure-how-to-feel ness about it._

_Arc, what do you think? ;)  
_


	26. An Ending or A Beginning?

An Ending or A Beginning?

Later.

She finally got him to leave.

He was hovering, and it was incredibly annoying. She threatened to shoot him but he hadn't seemed to care. Apparently she used the idea of her weapon too often for him to take her seriously. But when she had come out of her bedroom wielding the handgun, he had finally gotten the message. Vacate the premises.

It wasn't that she wanted him to leave and never come back, exactly, more that once she had gotten over the shock and the pain of Carter, and his choices… she needed time alone. She was extremely grateful that Jane had chosen to stay with her, to take care of her. She'd never really had that before. Once when she was younger, after her mother, the one and only time she'd been so sick that she couldn't keep going. Her brothers had tried to take care of her; one of the teachers got worried, dropped by their house unexpectedly. Teresa had almost had a heart attack. They'd been so good at avoiding the obvious. She knew, if Child Services got called in, they'd be separated. There were just too many of them. Since then, she'd never let anyone take care of her, some child-like reaction convinced that her family would be taken away. She knew it was irrational, but there it was. Sickness equaled the dissolution of her family, no, not sickness; someone taking care of her while sick was dangerous. But she'd been so out of it, the fear hadn't even raised its ugly head. Huh.

She'd felt cared for. Around Jane.

She sighed in relief when his car finally left her street. She knew he'd be back, but for right now, she appreciated the silence that was her home without Jane.

Time passes.

Tomorrow was Monday, which meant going back to work for the first time since Carter. She was looking forward to it, to the staidness, the safety, the complete and utter predictability of the office, and her team. Jane's teasing and tricks, Cho's calm demeanor, Van Pelt's enthusiasm, Rigsby's solid body taking up space. Sometimes, when she stood next to him she felt like she was a pixie floating on the air beneath the giant human. He was just so tall and big, she was glad Van Pelt was tall; it made her feel less small, knowing that another woman could stand next to Rigsby and hold her ground. She supposed it must be an odd sight to the people they interviewed, that the smallest and least likely looking was the one actually in charge. She grinned, she really loved her team. They had been so sweet and so supportive during this time. She only wished that Jane had seen and understood they wanted to be there for him too. All of them.

She knew from the looks Jane had been giving her that he wanted to talk about the park, and the kiss. But he had promised. To just let it be, whatever it was. No repercussions, no talks about it afterward. She certainly hadn't expected him to kiss her back, or so strongly. So emotionally. She knew she was attracted to him, kind of hard to miss, and she knew he was possessive, jealous almost, of her, but she hadn't realized that feelings were involved. She couldn't believe she'd really been that dense. Maybe she didn't want to acknowledge that to herself, knowing that he wouldn't do anything about it. So content to run after Red John and wait for the day he could kill him. She was still going to do everything in her power to stop Jane from ruining what was left of her life, but … hadn't Carter proven to her that she was never going to be successful. She knew Carter had a problem with Violet's death. She knew Carter had spent a lot of time trying to prove that his wife was killed, had even decided Antonio Bloch was to blame. She just hadn't thought he would let a personal sense of justice interfere with the larger sense of justice they both pursued.

Could she ask that of Jane, if he wanted to pursue something? Could she demand that he give up on Red John? At least, give up on being the one to kill Red John? Could she ask that? She knew she already had, on many occasions. Yelling at him in a dark room – _stop being childish, selfish_. _We (I) care about you._ She could understand the desire, for revenge, who hadn't? Whether it was the bully at school, the man who ruined your happy family or the person who cheated off you and then got the promotion, everybody had someone they had that inkling of revenge over. But most people recognized wanting that, doing that, was detrimental… to yourself. But not Jane. He thought he didn't have anything left to live for, and she couldn't accept that. Letting someone like that worm their way into her life, into her affections. That was why she struggled so much around Jane. She wanted to let him in, to open her life to him, to allow him into those spaces he kept trying to pry into, didn't he realize? How much it hurt to keep pushing him out? To keep denying the obvious truth? She was protecting herself, from him, and she wasn't doing a very good job.

Carter chose the death of another over living. If Jane was determined to as well, then she couldn't stop him, not really. But she could prevent herself from getting sucked in too. If Carter had this much of an impact on her sanity, she didn't think she could handle something similar with Jane. Then the obvious truth came… she was going to have to ask him to leave the team, or leave herself. She couldn't so this anymore. She couldn't be around him. He was going to get her hurt, more than just the physical. She could handle that aspect of being around him. Red John was important, she understood that, it was necessary to catch him, and Jane was their best chance. But she was getting too close, too close to Jane, in the personal sense. She wouldn't be able to pull back. To see things clearly and if they were both blinded, Red John would win. Oh, he might die, no doubt about that, Red John's life span got shortened by the minute, but he would still win, if Jane murdered Red John…

But she didn't want to leave Jane. That's what was so annoying. She knew he was bad for her, especially concerning Red John. But she didn't want to move away. He was selfish and childish and a Pain In The Ass but he was Jane. She liked him, she cared about him, and that's where the very dangerous line came into it. If he somehow managed to stop playing charades, let go of the all-encompassing obsession that was Red John (obviously she could never expect him to just walk away, even she couldn't do that) she would be very close to loving Patrick Jane. And you know what was most surprising, that didn't scare her. She wasn't even embarrassed by the realization. She wondered if, now that she'd accepted that, would she stop blushing? It was an intriguing thought.

He was waiting for her the next morning. He, almost hourly, had contemplated going back to her house. To make sure she was okay. But she needed to know she could be alone, so he'd staved off the impulse and come to the office to wait. The rest of the team arrived before her, if they were surprised to see him in the office, they didn't say anything. Jane was too busying waiting for Lisbon to pay them much attention.

Cho shot Van Pelt a look – one that said, do you know what's going on? She sent one to Rigsby, who shrugged. Then they all stared at Jane, who was watching the elevator.

After three false starts, the elevator finally opened letting Lisbon out. She looked normal, just like before, maybe a little tired, but nothing they hadn't seen before on a particularly long case.

"Morning Boss." Van Pelt said winningly, she was so glad that Lisbon was back.

"Morning." Cho and Rigsby echoed.

"Hey guys." She replied, smiling. "Jane." She nodded toward the couch.

"So, you okay?" Van Pelt ventured.

"I'm doing better. Thanks." She replied warmly.

It was off-putting, Lisbon being so open about her emotional breakdown, or whatever it was. They each retreated to their desks nervously. Once she had disappeared into her office, Rigsby prodded Jane.

"Go talk to her." He whispered.

"Why?" Jane asked, a sparkle of mischief in his eyes.

"She's acting weird." He said bluntly.

"Give her some time. I'm sure she'll be normal in no time."

But she wasn't. Happy, more emotionally open Lisbon stayed. Jane could only cause her to blush every blue moon. To say he was frustrated was an understatement. She got angry less, had more tolerance not only for Jane's insanity but also for Cho and Rigsby going along with his plans. She believed his theories with less prompting, spent more time with Van Pelt outside the office, and even started sharing pieces of information about herself, dropped inconspicuously into the conversation.

Jane noticed everything, but he couldn't figure out why. He had dreams about her, normal dreams. Where she stood in the gaping hole left by his wife, she didn't try to fill the wife-shaped hole, she made a Lisbon shaped imprint on his heart, and it was enough. The ache was dulling, the horror and the pain was muting. He still loved his wife, that would never change, but slowly his heart and mind were willing to believe that he could share his life with another. Once Red John was dealt with, once his wife and daughter were given justice.

"I'm worried." He heard Van Pelt say (whisper, so as not to wake him), "She's not herself, well she is but she's not. She's different. She's…"

"Nicer?" Rigsby supplanted.

Van Pelt squealed in disbelief, "Rigsby!"

"No, I meant, she's nicer all the time now."

Huh? He thought, and realized Van Pelt had outwardly echoed his statement.

"I mean, she was nice before. Great even. But now it's like, she'd given herself permission to be nice all the time, instead of only sometimes."

"Nice?" He heard Cho repeat.

"She's happier." Rigsby stated.

Silence fell. Too late they realized; Lisbon was standing beside them.

"Hey Boss." Rigsby squeaked.

She merely smiled, Jane could feel it. She didn't reprimand them, didn't even acknowledge what they'd been talking about. "It's almost quitting time, why don't you all cut out of here? Don't you have a date Cho?" She asked, to the silent scoffs of Rigsby and Jane.

"Yeah, I do actually. Thanks Boss." He replied. Jane nearly fell off the couch. How did he miss that?

What else was he missing? Van Pelt, Rigsby and Jane gaped as Cho gathered his things and left the building early. Shaking his head, Rigsby followed suit, then Van Pelt who smiled softly at Lisbon.

Lisbon went back into her office, pleased that she had read Cho's behavior accurately.

Van Pelt peered back in, once Lisbon was gone. "Go talk to her." She hissed to Jane, "she's moving on…" It had taken a while, but Grace had eventually figured out why Lisbon had so suddenly changed. She was accepting that she couldn't save everyone that sometimes you just had to let people make those choices. The wrong ones. Sometimes, it was necessary, even though abysmally hard, to let people you cared about make horrendous mistakes. But she wasn't going to let Jane make another one. Lisbon didn't even react anymore, to his flirtatious teasing, she smiled, took it, as if she found it amusing. Didn't he see? Couldn't he see, she was slowly walking away from him. Van Pelt didn't want that to happen. Ever since she'd first seen the thing that was Lisbon and Jane, she'd harbored romantic delusions about them. They were almost perfect for each other, they were complementary. Why was Jane letting her get away? She'd always assumed it was Lisbon holding them back, making things difficult. But now she realized, it had been both of them, their insecurities and pasts creating awkwardness and mistrust. And now, when Lisbon seemed ready to be happy, Jane was being idiotic.

She felt him looking at her through the gap in her partially opened door.

"You coming in?" She asked, a slight smile gracing her face.

He covered his nervousness with one of his usual _I know everything _smiles. He hadn't realized she knew what it was. Ever since she'd accepted she was quite close to loving Jane in a romantic sense, she'd begun to watch him, to understand him more than she had previously. Before, she had been so intent of making sure he didn't see anything of her, see her secrets and her innermost thoughts that she had never truly watched him. She had never truly learned about him, she didn't know what his individual looks meant or the different tones in his voice, but once she knew her own heart, he started to become easier to read. Perhaps that was the only secret to understanding human behavior? Perhaps all you needed was to know yourself, to understand yourself and then everything else would fall into place.

She tilted her head, beckoning him into her office. She was just finishing up, actually that was a lie, she'd finished ages ago and was stalling. She wanted to tell Jane, it was time. She'd been patient, hoping that he'd make up his mind about her, about his feelings for her. Whether or not he wanted to continue what she had accidentally started in the pier and in the park. She knew what she wanted; she was tired of being alone and sad. Even when she was angry, annoyed, flustered, embarrassed, tired, teasing, she always felt more alive around Jane. He helped her to truly live… who else in her life could make her feel? Whether it was a paper frog, a Shetland pony, a rubber chicken (popping out from Cho's desk on the anniversary of her Mother's birth), or a silver dollar twinkling up at her from the corner of her desk, Jane always found some way to make her smile even against her own wishes. She needed someone like that. She was too much like her father.

Her father had been grasping too hard onto life, her mother had been the one to give him the means to let go, to enjoy it. She would tease and laugh, flirt with him in public even though her father was the worst person she'd ever seen in the history of the planet to attempt flirting back. As a young thirteen year old she'd floundered between finding it hilarious and downright embarrassing. Then they would kiss, and she and her brothers would gag. Bittersweetly, she missed that the most.

He stayed on the edges of her personal space, something he never did. And felt the awkwardness. But it was coming from him. He wasn't used to being the one in the awkward places of a relationship, a friendship. He was the one that made others feel out of place, when had Lisbon developed this talent? He watched her closely, heart sinking in his chest when his carefully put out gazes didn't make her stumble. She knew he was watching her, drinking in the sight of her, the smell of her. She let him. It was damn frustrating.

Enough was enough! Strangely though, they both thought this.

"Lisbon." "Jane."

The names meshing together as they both tried to speak.

"You first." She acquiesced.

"You're different." He said, bluntly and a little redundantly. Of course, she was different.

"Am I?" She asked, her voice soothing and comfortable.

"Yes." He replied.

"I am." She conceded.

"When did … this is rather off-putting for me Lisbon." He was going to continue but she stopped him.

"I know Jane. You like to be in control. To know everything."

"No I don't." He exclaimed shuffling his feet further into her office.

"You do." She said softly. Smiling too.

"Okay, possibly I enjoy the knowledge that comes from my gifts of observation."

"You enjoy the sense of power that comes from it. Knowing intimate details of people's lives; information that they haven't given you permission to know."

"You been thinking about this hard, haven't you." He joked.

"I have." She replied steadily. She wasn't going to let him get out of this conversation with a joke, not now that he'd finally started it.

He froze. Lisbon didn't like to acknowledge she thought about him, even when it was a valid sort of thinking about him. Work related or friendship related… she always got flustered thinking he would think she was thinking about him romantically, which more often than not she was. It was why she was so easy to fluster, because she was attracted to him, and that attraction was a major cause of unease for her. That's it! He realized; she had accepted it. She had accepted the attraction. She wasn't getting flustered because she wasn't embarrassed by her feelings. Whether that meant she wanted to do anything about it was an entirely different thing.

He consciously relaxed his body. This was going to be fun. Now that he knew he could change his inept attempts to fluster her, he could begin to flirt with her, perhaps even outrageously. He grinned as he slid over to her.

She stifled a snort; he looked kind of like an albino panther. Dressed in a suit. Well, it was either find the situation funny or pounce him herself. And she wasn't ready yet; she needed to make sure he intended more than a distraction. She knew what she wanted, had for a while now, but she wanted everything, or at least the beginnings of everything. She didn't want to only have the Tuesdays of the month with him. That's what it felt like sometimes, when he was being sweet and utterly Jane-like; giving her sweet looks, caressing her with his eyes, smiles, tone of voice… she wanted him.

She had finally figured out something about Jane, the thing that had been bothering her the most. The reason why he used his talents so often, he probably didn't realize, he invaded people's lives because he didn't know how to form the proper kind of attachment. He was so alone, and it was even worse now that his wife and daughter were gone. She thought about the kind of woman Jane's wife must have been… Jane probably thought he'd won her over. But Lisbon had another theory. Jane's wife had to have been the one to make that decision. The choice to break down the façade of Jane, the showmanship; she probably had it easier than Lisbon did, given that he wasn't broken and in pain. But Jane's wife, she had to break through the stupidity that came from his arrogance, no easy thing. Jane's wife was tough, and determined. She knew what she wanted and she got it. Now all Lisbon had to do was play this right and she'd get what she wanted, or she wouldn't, and they'd remain friends. Good close friends, but that's all.

She wanted months of Tuesdays. Months made up of everyday being a Tuesday. She wanted to try, for once in her life, to get her Tuesdays. She didn't want to wait in the corners hoping that some sliver of Tuesday would shine through an open door. She didn't want to live in a famine, sneaking touches of Tuesday hours, hoping that it wouldn't take another seven days for Tuesday to come back. She wanted her Tuesdays, and she had been patient. So patient. But it was time now, time to make the choice, take the chance, hope that her Tuesdays would come… if they didn't maybe she could try to find her Wednesdays.

"What else have you been thinking about?" He asked when it appeared she wasn't going to elaborate.

"Lots of things."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Elaborate?" She repeated, teasingly.

He was by her side now, trying to intimidate her with his presence. She breathed in deeply, savoring the smell, the aura, just in case her ploy failed and they went back across the lines to being friends again.

He caught her; she was breathing him in. It shocked him. He wasn't used to her allowing herself to be, well, herself. Especially around him, she usually tried to hide, as if she could. What was she doing? What exactly had changed about her? Why had she changed? He had thought it would take much longer for her to become comfortable with herself, especially for her to become comfortable enough to be herself around him!

"What are you doing?" He asked incredulously. Not able to keep the quiver in his voice out of the question.

"Remembering…"

"In case…?"

She spun quickly, leaning back against her desk. She was almost perched upon it, their sides touching; now she was facing him properly.

"Jane." She said, stated actually. Eyes clearly focused on his.

He swallowed. They didn't do this. They didn't stand face to face with less than a foot of space between them. Bad things happened when they did. Bad, bad, wonderful things happened.

She looked up at him, her lips twitching with a startling sort of softness; a tenderness he hadn't expected to see after long weeks of his attempts to completely and utterly embarrass her. Some of the stunts had had Cho blushing.

"When you kissed me in the park-" She started.

"I think you mean when you kissed me, me dear!" He cried indignantly; quirking his lips into a self-satisfied smile.

"After I kissed you, and you kept going." She clarified.

He made a sort of 'harumphing' sound, obviously put out by her clear memory of it.

"You kept kissing me." She said, placing her hand on his chest when it appeared he was going to interrupt her again, "and it was fine." He arched an eyebrow at her. "Okay," She conceded, laughingly, "it was nice, better than nice. Happy?"

He nodded, wondering at her ability to be so calm talking about this.

"I thought at the time, it was just, something I needed. To feel. To break through whatever was keeping me… like that." He nodded slowly, understandingly. He could certainly understand the need to find something, anything, to feel again. Isn't that what Sophie and Red John had done for him?

"And I admit. It was. I needed that, and I'm glad it was you and not say … Minelli?" She lifted an eyebrow, gauging his reaction. He smirked in kind.

"But… I'm attracted to you Jane."

His jaw almost dropped. Did she just actually say that out loud? Thankfully, years on the stage kept his muscles in place.

"And I've always thought it had to be more than one way, one-sided. You're attracted to me too. And, while I wouldn't have thought you were anything more than interested in playing with the effects of my attraction to you. Which you do seem to enjoy doing, you're the one who extended that kiss. You're the one who was - is jealous of other men around me. You're the one who buys me ponies, and makes me origami apologies and brings me tulips because you broke my pen in one of your stupid magic tricks." She was talking faster now, just trying to get it all out before the world came crashing down and Jane rejected her. While she might have acknowledged that this was the right (appropriate) times for this, she was still very afraid that today was the day she would go home knowing that a future with Jane was a moot point.

His hand came up and his fingers brushed her lips, pressing more firmly when she tried to keep talking. "Woman." He whispered, "stop talking."

He felt her mouth move, but no sound was coming out. Her wide eyes peered up at his, waiting for his next move.

"I see you've been getting to know yourself." He said.

Her mouth moved again, ready to continue her rant. "Wait!" He cried, enjoying her obedience.

"Is this why you've been so frustrating lately?" He asked, eyes dancing over her face.

She managed a short nod, knowing she wasn't allowed to talk, enjoying the feel of his fingers on her lips.

He chuckled. "Lisbon, my dear. That is one of the most brilliant ideas I think you've ever had."

She frowned at him; obviously not pleased. He grinned again.

She sighed, at least he lost with a little grace, it was more than she had expected.

"So what is it you want?" He asked, his 'serious' face making a comeback. It had been a while since she had seen it.

"What do you want?" She replied.

"I asked you first." He said.

She heaved a heavy sigh, "This isn't a you asked first type of thing Jane." When he didn't respond she kept going, "This is a … I know what I want. Do you? Type of thing."

He threw a quizzical eyebrow her way.

"You're not that dense Jane. And if you need time to think, I understand." She tried to rein in her nerves. Her insides were acting like she was about to go over Niagara Falls in a canoe.

"I'm just… not sure how much longer I can go on, without some type of forward momentum." She leaned upward, pressing a kiss to his cheek; landing square on the corner of his mouth. The exact same place he had kissed her on the pier.

Her very own quarter kiss, he thought.

Then she left, leaving the scattered papers on the desk. Five minutes later once the shock and subsequent brain firings had worked out what she had meant, he noticed that the papers were nothing more than scrap; half-realized thoughts scratched into the margins of a first draft of a requisition form, another twenty complaints against him, and a couple of crosswords and Sudokus.

Now.

It was now. And it was what he wanted.

He wasn't sure how soon he could make it (let it) happen but he wanted to make a point.

He didn't knock. A little surprised, given her history, but rather thankful; her door was unlocked. He eased into her home. Wandering down the hall he found her just about to exit the bathroom. She'd just finished showering. Her hair was tousled and still damp, her skin, dewy – exiting the steaming room in a thin (and short) robe.

She squeaked.

"Jane!" She finally exclaimed, hand coming up to rest upon her beating heart.

"Teresa." He said, slowly, deliberately.

"Patrick?" Hesitantly.

His hand, shaking, reached toward her. Presenting her with the only gift he could give her. A ring. Worn, loved, gold.

A quaking breathe escaped her. "You didn't have to… I didn't mean for…" Tears suddenly sprang to her eyes. "That's too much." She finally said.

"It was time." He replied roughly. His own emotions weighing heavily.

Her other hand came up, reaching for his. She tried to fold the ring back into his hand, but he refused. Switching tacks, she plucked it from his trembling hand, surprising him – she ran her hand up to his breast pocket, opening the gap, she slid the ring into his jacket.

"Strange, strange, _sweet_ man." She whispered; a small smile lighting her face.

They stayed at the bathroom door for a moment; letting the steam escape and the mirror defog. His hands caressed her neck and her shoulder. Her hands stayed making sure the sacred ring was safe in his pocket.

"One thing at a time…" She finally said.

"First thing though," He cut in, pulling her to him quickly, and kissing her. Properly, the way he had wanted to ever since the first day she hadn't blushed.

She wasn't embarrassed or scared when they pulled away from each other, breathing a little strained. "It doesn't have to stay hidden." She said, patting the hidden ring. "You can put it back on." She was completely serious, he knew.

"No. I'm ready." He said. He tried to make his voice sound sure. It wasn't. Lisbon – Teresa didn't seem to mind.

"But if you're not. I want you to wear it. One thing at a time, remember?" She smiled again, softly.

"It'll be our secret?" He asked, toyingly.

"Wonder who'll be the first to notice?" She replied, teasingly.

"Van Pelt or Cho?" He responded, enjoying the exchange.

"I vote Cho."

"Why?"

"He's observant like that. He just doesn't say anything." She grinned.

"Cho can keep a secret." He said.

"Yes, he can."

"So can you." He rubbed a hand over her shoulder and started pulling her toward the couch.

"I'm great a keeping secrets!" She exclaimed, ruffling his hair with her hand.

"You are definitely the secret keeper of our little team." He replied, affectionately. "Kept your realizations in the dark for a long time too. Van Pelt thought you were leaving."

That thought made her pause, a little bit horrified. "Not leaving the team woman." He said exasperatedly, "Leaving me, moving on."

"Never leaving," She replied, "Although I was getting ready for the possibility that I might have to move past my affection for you."

"Your affection?" He prodded.

"That's what I'm calling it." She responded with a laugh.

"Well now you don't have to get ready for anything."

"Oh I don't do I?"

"Nothing bad, at least." He winked, falling. Making both of them tumble onto the couch. Where he made sure they stayed for the next hour.

They didn't do too much exploration. Although Lisbon did wake up the next morning with an interesting shaped bruise on her shoulder. Just another secret she'd be keeping.

* * *

_Lions and Tigers and Bears, oh my! I'm finally finished!_

_*Does a little victory dance*_

_So that was a longish post, but worth it. So very worth it._

_I hope I've wrapped up most things well enough for you._

_Of course, nothing will ever be wrapped up in a tidy bow..._

_Arc :)  
_


End file.
